


War Crimes

by Zeragii



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Ambassador Frisk, Angst, Bad People Do Bad Things, Chara is gone, Child Frisk, Drama, Emotional Manipulation, Everyone Knows About the Resets, Evil W. D. Gaster, Experimentation, Family, Female Frisk, Forgotten Past, Humans, Hurt/Comfort, Illness, Lack of Sleep, Loss of Control, Nightmares, On the surface, POV Sans, Poor Sans, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route - "I want to stay with you.", Protective Undyne, Sad Sans, Sans-centric, Souls, They're Trying to Help Him, scared sans, they are a family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-10-05 04:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 116,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10297607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeragii/pseuds/Zeragii
Summary: Sans thought it was finally over, but it had really only just begun. Something dark lies in wait, something he forgot, and it's only a matter of time before old memories, and old purposes, are revived. When a happy ending is all at once a nightmare, Frisk and her friends are faced with either saving someone they love, or saving their future. And saving both might not be an option.





	1. Sleepless Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I'm Zeragii!  
> So, I am very new to this site, but am very eager to give it my best shot. This story can also be found on Deviantart at http://zeragii.deviantart.com/ or on Fanfiction at https://www.fanfiction.net/~zeragii.
> 
> I do not own the Undertale franchise, characters, or anything relating to it. I do not write for profit, but for my own enjoyment and, I hope, the enjoyment of others. Thank you!

_It was the same scene as always._

_Was it ever going to get any easier?_

_The words were nothing but rehearsed lines, burned so deeply into his memory he doubted they would ever be forgotten, and would torture him until the end of his existence. Whenever that might be._

_What version would it all end in this time? Death, he knew that much. Always death. Whether his or hers, or someone else's, he couldn't be sure. But what did it matter? He couldn't stop it, no matter what he did. He had tried his hardest, reset after pointless reset he had struggled to warp the timeline to a favorable end. He had tried until he felt his soul would shatter, crack and turn to dust. And, sometimes, he almost welcomed it._

_If only it was that easy. To die and simply stay dead. But no. It was always one horrid life and death, only to repeat it. Over and over. Until he found little reason to fight at all. He had become sluggish, the fire for life dying slowly within him. Smothered out by hopelessness and fear. Strangled. Choked. And yet, he was still standing there in that world-forsaken hall. He was still fighting her, even when he knew there was no point. Like some empty shell, body doing what it had done so many times before, just out of habit. Dying now was almost a habit. A ritual. A routine._

_But it never did get any easier._

_He'd say his piece, and the kid would answer, all sadistic grin and cruel enjoyment. He hated it. Hated how no matter how hard he fought, he could never truly wipe that smirk off of her face. Even if he managed to do so for a minute, the next the whole thing would reset. It would all be for nothing. How many times could someone like him take this kind of mental torture? How long could he keep his sanity? He suspected that that was one of the things Chara liked most about their fights. Each time, he was just a little more undone at the seams. A little closer to losing it._

_But he'd give it his all anyway. He'd give it his true and very all. Even if it would never be enough._

_His breathing was ragged. Sweat pouring off of him, tickling down his bones beneath his damp coat and shirt. His chest rose and fell unevenly as he stumbled, leaning forward shakily to rest his hands on his knees._

_This was no different then any other time._

_They were in the Judement Hall. Light was streaming in through the windows; fake and dimmed by his lack of caring. It just wasn't pretty anymore. He tried again to gather his magic, to try his hardest. His hand raised, the blue light enveloping his palm, and his eye alight with blue flame. There was still some hope in him. But then a hand, small and child-like, gripped his wrist so hard it seemed to choke the magic right out of it. He tried to pull back, but the hand pulled harder, spinning him around until she was behind him._

_This was new. And he hated new. He couldn't react to new._

_With a slash of steel, he felt the knife rip into him mercilessly, deep within his back. Tearing. Searing. Hot and sticky. What the-? Skeletons don't...bleed? The pain was insane, which was nearly what it was driving him to be. He felt his tenuous grip on his mind slowly slipping._

_He was dying again. In a moment he would be nothing but dust. He fell to his knees as she released him, standing over him eyes and teeth gleaming in the dark. She watched him shake; watched him as his soul shivered in pain, cracks forming all throughout it._

_He would always give it his all. Even if it would never be enough._

_It would never be enough._

_His soul shattered. Like glass. And with it,_ _he gave out a loud, piercing shriek..._

* * *

A heart-rending scream ripped through the quiet atmosphere of the peaceful night. And it wasn't one of those soft cries of startled surprise, or fear, or even one of those half comical shouts of distress someone might release during the folds of any normal nightmare. No, this was a full-blown, shrill, throat-tearing scream of agony, like someone being sliced in two, that ripped through the tranquil household like shattering glass. Its suddenness gave it a very surreal, ghost-like quality. It rang out, piercing, so loud that it must have been heard for miles. But that was outside the home from whence the scream had come. Inside, it was far louder, and every heart that heard it, even in the arms of peaceful slumber, skipped a frightened beat as wakefulness was tossed upon them.

Toriel and Asgore jolted up from their bed, springs squeaking and sheet flying under the assault of kicking feet as their eyes shot open, breaths catching in their throats at the terrible sound. Their thoughts instantly flew to Frisk, afraid that the child had been hurt somehow. But as the echo of pain receded, they realized that it had not been a child's voice.

Undyne rolled over like lightning in her own room, clutching at a nearby spear she had leaned against her bedpost. Before she was even fully awake she was ready to fight or defend, braced and standing on her bed, as though preparing to face a great storm. She blinked when she found her room empty, before she jumped down, marching for her closed bedroom door, intending full well to determine the scream's source; though she had a pretty good idea.

A few rooms down, Alphys gave a loud squeak, tumbling out of her own dreams with a gasp of nervous terror, groping for her robe. Frisk, somewhere in between those two rooms, felt her soul give a terrible twist, recognizing the sound of pure, unbridled pain and terror. She knew the feeling well, and, for a moment she wondered if the voice had been her own. But her throat didn't hurt, and, though her heart was beating fast, it wasn't the pounding she would have expected. That only left those she cared about in danger. With a scramble, the kid got out of bed, heading for the one monster in the house she suspected, determined to help.

It was Papyrus, however, who was closer to the shriek than anyone else. And, at that horrific cry, he jolted awake, so startled by the sound that he flailed, getting entangled in his bed sheets before falling off the bed to the floor with a loud _thump!_ He lay there a second, stunned, both by the sudden impact and the shout that was still ringing in his ears like an echo, before the name it belonged to followed in his mind just as loudly.

_Sans!_

Even shrouded by pain, Papyrus could recognize his brother's voice.

Frightened, the tall skeleton kicked and thrashed, trying to free himself of his fabric bonds and only half succeeding. It had twisted around his legs, and he only managed in getting one free. Giving it up as a lost battle, he stumbled to his feet anyway as he lurched forward across the floor, almost falling again headlong into the room adjoining his. He caught himself on the door frame, catching his balance, as his bony hand searched wildly along the wall for the light switch. Not that he really needed the light.

There was light enough in Sans' room, as it glowed with an agonized blue, piercing and neon. Sans' magic was strong, especially when he was scared, which, at the moment, he most certainly must be. Things were levitating, bouncing violently off the walls, which was why Papyrus did not enter. Not yet. He knew that the minute he stepped into that room, he too would be subject to his brother's powers. It was a lesson he had learned over the last several nights, as each night was much the same as the last.

There was an infuriating moment where Papyrus couldn't find the light switch, hand grasping uselessly at smooth, cold wall, before finally he was rewarded by the bit of plastic between his fingers. Without a moment longer of hesitation, he flipped it, illuminating the room in bright, blinding, yellow light.

Sans was there, sitting up in bed with the sheets bunched up around him, making him look even smaller than he usually did. That and the fact that he never wore his blue jacket to bed, made the scene paint him as unusually vulnerable. His white t-shirt clung to him, a result of the miracle that monster skeletons could sweat, as he sat panting for breath, looking very frightened. Eye sockets wide and trembling, the bony fingers of one hand griping the sheets while the other one quivered in mid air, the power having just left it. The bright light from the ceiling had done its work, waking the older skeleton brother from his sleep, but it did little for his state, which did not improve in the slightest. Sitting there, shivering and gasping, he looked almost younger than Frisk. Almost.

The minute the room had been bathed in real, true light, his powers had flickered out as he was jolted from his night terrors. All the objects that had been levitating crashed down, back to the floor, a few of the frailer items breaking. It left Sans wincing and shaking, blinking twice before his bony hands rushed to shield his sockets against the sudden brightness that felt as though it were drilling into his skull. Papyrus felt guilty about that. It might not be the gentlest wake up call, but he had found it to be the safest, for both him and Sans.

Papyrus stumbled forward, still kicking his own blanket off his foot, trying to keep from tripping. Finally breaking free, he was leaning on Sans' bed in moments, holding out a hand to gently touch his brother's shoulder, panic on his face as he swept his eyes over Sans and the room, searching for anything wrong or out of place.

"SANS! SANS, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?! ARE YOU HURT?!" Despite the repetitive nature this scene had gained over the past several days, it always still scared Papyrus. It always scared him half to death.

Sans was dazed, more focused on regaining his breath than actually concerned with what had just happened. Images bombarded his memory, never fading, always sharp and clear as day, burned into his mind. And the feelings of dread and fear they left behind did not diminish either, feeding his panic. He flinched at Papyrus touch, jolting his gaze up to meet that of his worried brother, trying his honest best to reign in what he knew to be an irrational fear. It was just a dream. It was always just a dream. He needed to pull himself together before the others arrived.

"I...I don't think so...I-"

Apparently, he had less time than he had hoped. He didn't even get to finish his sentence before the door leading to the hall was slammed inward, suddenly full of worried faces and frightened voices, all of whom were focused on him.

This was not an unfamiliar sight. If Sans didn't know better, he might have thought he was stuck in another time loop. This happened so often, it wasn't even funny; and it was a wonder they even came to him at all when he screamed anymore. He'd think they'd get used to it. It was only shortly after coming to the Surface that the nightmares had picked up. He had always had them, even in the Underground, but after the Barrier was broken they got much worse. Or, at least, they seemed to. It was as though all the stress, fear, and grief that he had kept inside himself so long hadn't decided to make itself fully known until after Sans had finally accepted that it was over; that they were free of the Underground, free of the resets, and free of Chara. Now, they only haunted him in his dreams.

"What _is_ it with you?!" Undyne hollered, a glowing spear gripped in her firm hand, careful not to let her concern show through her anger, and she wasn't entirely successful. The spear cracked energy, casting yet more light into Sans' sore vision. The others had always suspected Undyne practically slept with that impressive weapon, and now more than ever seemed to prove it. Her eyes shifted between Papyrus and Sans, seeming enraged; but, though no one could be certain, it seemed for a moment that her gaze softened to something resembling pity and concern, before it was quickly hidden by an expression of frustration.

"Seriously? Again?" she groaned, annoyance very obvious. "Sans, you've done this every night for a _week_!"

That was right. Even though the dreams themselves were nothing knew, the screaming certainly was. Usually his night terrors only produces whimpers and gasps from the diminutive skeleton. But these sharp, pained shrieks had all of them unnerved, most of all Sans himself.

Sans flinched as his shoulders slumped, still under his brother's touch. He couldn't remember how many times this scene had repeated over and over. No, it may not be a time loop, at least not like he had suffered through only a short time before, but it certainly was a result of it. Each night, now that they were free from both the Barrier and the timelines, he woke up with the echo of his own scream still ringing throughout the house. It filled him with guilt. Why couldn't things all just end as happily as it had seemed to? They had been freed. They had returned to the Surface. Negotiations with the humans were going well, from what Asgore and Alphys had told him. Then why couldn't he just let go of the past and embrace the future like the rest of them? Why did he have to burden down the rest of them with his own problems? With not only the past, but a past that had never truly happened? But it had happened for him, even if they didn't remember it. And for that he was glad. He wouldn't have wished this torture on anyone...Except maybe Chara...He should be able to hide it better by now; he should have been able to handle this alone...but he couldn't. No matter how hard he tried. He couldn't.

Toriel was a little more subtle than Undyne in her approach of the situation, as well as more sensitive. She carefully made her way into the room, releasing Frisk's hand, which she had been clutching, as she crept closer. Her eyes had taken in Sans' quivering, and Papyrus's worry, knowing that this was simply a repeat of the night before. And the night before. And the night before. And the night before. While this may be getting old rather quickly, it was serious enough to deserve attention. What was a few minutes interrupted sleep in comparison to whatever it was that Sans was facing?

Frisk followed Toriel a few steps, the young child wide eyed and concerned. They all knew how much Frisk cared for Sans, how their friendship surpassed most of even the closest friends, but these situations were unpredictable. Sans was a powerful fighter, and when he was this upset, his powers tended to be a little on edge and unstable. With a shake of her head, Toriel signaled Frisk to stand in the doorway with Asgore, Undyne, and Alphys, and though the child looked hesitant, she obeyed.

"May I come in?"

Toriel winced when Sans simply turned away his head from her in what was probably embarrassment, but was grateful when Papyrus nodded ever so slightly, encouraging her on. The taller skeleton knew how close Toriel and Sans had become over the course of their adventures. She was one of the very few people who appreciated Sans' puns after all, and that was really saying something. Their friendship had grown strong, as had all of theirs since they had first been brought together by Frisk. In a way, Toriel had become a mother figure to all of them, even though they were all adults, excluding Frisk of course. Papyrus hoped that, in some way, Toriel's presence might actually help the situation, as it had on previous occasions. Toriel was such a strong soul; kind, gentle, yet firm. Motherly. Just what was needed.

Sans felt rather than saw Toriel take Papyrus's place at his bedside, his brother backing up a bit and standing with his hands fiddling anxiously as he watched; waiting. Sans' shoulders slumped even more, a slight blue tinge coming into his face as his embarrassment grew. He wished that the others would just leave him alone whenever this happened. He wanted to be left alone, he really did, but then, at the same time, he was scared stiff to be alone. Terrified even. Having them there made it harder to relax, that much was true, but then again it was always a relief to see that they were all alive and well.

He shuddered. It helped having his friends there he decided, to banish the remaining images of his nightmares; help him know they weren't real. Distract him. As he felt Toriel's weight lower on the foot of his bed, he closed his eyes, hoping that that would somehow make it easier to face the efforts of the goat-like monster to sooth him.

"Sans?"

He didn't move or respond.

"Sans, look at me."

She used to be the Queen. And though that title she had long since left in the past, she still held that calm, regal manner that gave her the final, authoritative say in almost any matter. What could he do but obey? Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and turned to face her fully, causing the woman to flinch under the pain in his dark eye sockets. No pinpricks of white existed at the moment, telling of just how serious he was. And there was no magic. He had gotten that under control again, though the others were sure his magic waited just below the surface, ready to defend the minute Sans felt threatened.

It was amazing how so much emotion could be conveyed in a face made of bone. But that was the beauty and magic of being a monster, specifically a skeleton. Things didn't really have to make sense, and were simply accepted. Even his breathing wasn't a really necessity. He didn't have lungs, or any other organ for that matter. Just magic, and a tired and worn soul that was slowly trying to heal and pull itself back together. But breathing, the taking in and pushing out of air, was something that both he and Papyrus did, without thought or question, as did, they assumed, all skeletons. The same went for headaches, stomach aches, expressions and emotions; all things usually inborn in something with inner workings, not just an outer husk. But, again, that was the beauty of magic. Despite having no brain there were headaches, despite having no stomach, they could feel sick, and despite having no facial muscles whatsoever they could be just as expressive as any monster or human out there. One might only expect the frozen grimace of the dead, and yet, there was so much more. So much, much more.

"We know you have been having nightmares," Toriel began slowly, softly, her eyes never once shifting from where his should have been. Her face was stern, but caring. "That is something you have explained to us, and we understand. So there is no use in trying to hide something from us that we already know. Sans, you have been _screaming._ _Every_ night."

She paused as she thought she heard him mutter a very weak apology. Her gaze softened further, and she sent Papyrus a nervous glance before turning back to the smaller skeleton. "You can tell us, Sans," she insisted carefully. "We know we cannot possibly understand all of it, but...we can try."

Sans eyesockets closed again at that, and his grip on his sheets tightened, almost to the point of making the bones of his hands creak. He knew they knew. Though they didn't remember like he did, he knew they knew well enough. He had told them a little, as lightly as he could, about the various timelines and of back when they had 'first' met Frisk. And then who knew how much Frisk had told them. He opened his eyes.

"I...I know. I'm just not...I can't...I..." Sans' face turned into an expression of confused frustration.

Why couldn't he say what he wanted to? He wanted to reassure them, tell them he was fine, but his own body refused to obey him and stripped him of that truth. He was _not_ fine. But he wasn't ready for them to know that yet. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax and giving his worried friends and brother a reassuring smile.

"I'm alright. Thanks. I just...I guess I'm just not quite over all that timeline stuff." His smile faltered, knowing that that was probably one of the closest things to the truth he had come to in that area for a while. "B-But I'm fine. You can...can all go back to bed. I won't scream again, I...I promise." It was an empty promise, because each and every one of them knew he couldn't help it. The nightmares were becoming worse, and far more frequent.

Toriel didn't push him. She gazed down at him sadly, pausing thoughtfully, her hand having reached out at some point to gently lay it on his arm. "Alright," she whispered, her concern still present. "Alright." She looked to Papyrus, whose usual comic expression was dampened by worry and sincerely strict attention.

"I'LL TAKE CARE OF HIM, TORIEL."

It was Papyrus's most authoritative voice; which, in all honesty, wasn't the least bit intimidating. But it showed he was serious, and that was enough of a shock to convince the others to back out and let the taller skeleton manage the situation. He was Sans' brother after all. He knew what to expect the most from Sans, and what might help calm him down. When it came to getting Sans to open up, Papyrus was the one to call.

Toriel smiled gently, eyes filled with the trust they had all gained for one another in their time together. "I know you will." She glanced at the others as she joined them in leaving, her hand carefully taking Frisk's own to lead her back to bed. She turned as Papyrus began to close the door. "Come and get one of us if you need anything, alright?"

Papyrus nodded, his body relaxing in gratitude. It was good to know that he would always have backup, and that was something he had not always had the fortune to have. "ALRIGHT. THANK YOU.'' He gave her a final, reassuring smile as he closed the door, waiting with his hand on the brass knob until he heard the shuffling of feet heading back to their respective beds. The taller skeleton took a deep breath, letting it out long and slow.

"...I'm sorry..."

The voice was so frail and hesitant that Papyrus almost cringed inward with a sorrowed grief he could barely contain. He hated hearing that sound in Sans' voice, one that he had been hearing a lot more lately than he liked. That sound of depressive hopelessness, that no manner of comfort or safety could seem to banish. That sound that had started to weave its way into the smaller skeleton's personality ever since they had made it past the Barrier and to the Surface.

During the day, Sans was fine; his usual pun-loving self, but when darkness fell, and the sun had set, it was only at night that the terrors came back to him. But even then, it was almost unbearable, for Sans himself as well those who cared for him.

Carefully, slowly, Papyrus moved away from the door, bony fingers leaving the doorknob and his skeleton feet walking silent on the thick carpet until he was beside his brother once again. He stood looking down at Sans, who had lowered his head, once again unable to look anyone, let alone his brother, in the face.

"THERE'S NO REASON TO BE SORRY, SANS," Papyrus stated firmly after a long pause. He lowered himself until he was seated on the bed, right next to Sans, though this time he did not touch him. "IT'S NOT LIKE YOU'RE DOING IT ON PURPOSE..." He paused, adding what he hoped was a light chuckle. "ER...YOU _AREN'T_ DOING IT ON PURPOSE, ARE YOU?''

Sans fell back against the sheets with a stifled sob, his expression becoming one of agitation and despair, telling Papyrus he had said the wrong thing.

"What's wrong with me, Pap? I...I'm causing nothing but trouble...You guys need your sleep..."

Just as much as he needed his. Sans' shirt rose and fell unevenly with his chest, his mind still trying to purge itself of those frightening images. It was a hopeless fight. They were burned so strongly into his memory, he doubted he would ever forget them; on purpose or otherwise. He was starting to run out of strength to fight this. He had hoped that after getting past the Barrier, after gaining a normal life, the nightmares would have left him. Instead, some of them had only grown worse. While, during the day, Sans was calm and lazy, just as he always was, he hated the nighttime when all his emotions were brought forward to be displayed so freely. The dreams really upset him, and it chased everything else about his personality away, other than his fear.

"HEY, HEY...I DIDN'T MEAN IT," Papyrus soothed, he edged a little closer, reaching forward tentatively until he had a comforting hand laying on Sans' shoulder. He was half afraid Sans would push him away. "I WAS JUST TRYING TO LIGHTEN THE MOOD A LITTLE. IT MAKES EVERYTHING A LITTLE MORE 'MARE'-ABLE. HA! DID YOU CATCH THAT? LIKE NIGHT-'MARE'? HUH, BROTHER?''

To sink so low as to create a pun, something that Papyrus usually avoided like the plague, was the taller skeleton's last resort. He was hoping it would snap his brother out of his depressive state, but it fell upon deaf ears, as Sans' only reaction was a further slumping of his body into the mattress.

The smile fell from Papyrus's face. This wasn't like Sans at all. Normally, the fact that Papyrus had just made a joke would have been enough to bring warmth and amusement into his brother's face. But it didn't. He didn't even smile, other than the grimace that was fixed so firmly in place now. The comedian in his brother was being choked right out of him, and Papyrus hated that he was powerless to stop it. Papyrus felt himself sink even lower, matching Sans's posture as much as physically possible without actually lying down so he could look him right in the eyesockets.

''ARE YOU ALRIGHT?''

_No. No, he was not alright._

"Yeah...Yeah, I'm just kind of getting sick of all this." Sans shifted his hands to his head, rubbing his face as though to wipe away his anxieties. In all honesty, he had a terrible headache. ''When we came up here, and the timelines finally broke out of the time loop...well, I guess I just assumed that everything would be fixed all at once. Heh. But, instead, I'm stuck with all these...these memories." He sighed, his eyes closing tight, hands gripping as though to tear the memories out of existence. "I haven't been getting much sleep, Pap...It's starting to wear away at my nerves...If I had any, heh heh."

His chuckle was a dry one, more bitter than anything, but at least he had tried. Maybe that comedian in him wasn't quite dead yet. He was still shaking he realized, and instantly put all his remaining energy in getting it under control. He needed to calm down, if not for his sake, then for Papyrus's, who was looking almost as pained with worry as he was feeling pained with despair. It really wasn't fair that he had to burden his brother with all of this. It wasn't fair that he had to burden _anyone_ with this. He should be strong enough to handle it by himself, but he wasn't; and he hated that.

Papyrus looked down at his hands, playing with the soft blanket fabric for a moment before he timidly tried a gentle question.

''DO YOU...YOU KNOW, REMEMBER ANY OF IT? THE DREAM I MEAN.'' He knew from experience that dreams where not always the easiest to remember; they tended to fade away the moment one's eyes had popped open. But Sans had always been more sensitive to that sort of thing, and surely it must be hard to let anything of a dream fade when it had been so very terrifying as Sans' nightmare had obviously been.

A pained expression swept across Sans' face before he could hide it. "...Yes. But I really wish I didn't. You'd think that if I got whatever it is I'm screaming about out in the open, then maybe it wouldn't haunt me in my sleep. But, we've tried that. I've already told you guys...everything. Everything that I could. And it doesn't make it any better. _Man,_ I'm tired..." Sans seemed to sink further into the mattress, his eyeless sockets looking bleak and constricted by exhaustion. "I can't even remember what our lives were like before the resets," he admitted slowly. "Not really. The memories are...they're darker...older...but that's the weird thing...I don't have anything solid to latch onto...There's just...nothing..."

This was new. Sans had never mentioned this before, and it took his brother by surprise. Papyrus found he was fidgeting ceaselessly, without even realizing it. Apparently he was even more worried than he had thought. But, then again, why shouldn't he be? It _was_ his brother, and Sans's well-being meant a lot to him; more than anything else in the world. Especially since he knew whatever was wrong was doing more harm than good.

"WELL, I REMEMBER. AND I CAN HELP YOU REMEMBER. WE LIVED IN SNOWDIN, WE HAD A NICE PLACE BY GRILLBY'S AND-"

"No." Sans's voice almost sounded strained. "No, I remember all of that, bro. I mean...before that...way before that."

"YOU MEAN, LIKE WHEN WE WERE KIDS?"

"Just...before. Before the time loops started. Before the resets...I can't...I don't remember it."

"YOU...YOU DON'T REMEMBER." Papyrus felt his mind twist as it tried to wrap around the concept as he let it sink in. "YOU MEAN, YOU DON'T REMEMBER...ANYTHING?''

Sans tried to keep the slow panic out of his tone, and only partially succeeded. "No," he croaked, blue glow initiating in his left eye socket. It had been an emotional night; it was surprising it hadn't lit up sooner. "I only remember Frisk, or Chara, coming to Snowdin...and then everything that followed, only for it all to repeat...so many times...If I'm honest with myself..."

His breath hitched.

"I really only remember a few days of my life...over and over again." The heaviness that came with that statement almost crushed him, and a heaviness settled on his soul, so strong around them that he was almost sure Papyrus could feel it too.

Papyrus stared at his face a moment, feeling a sense of loss. How could his brother not remember something like that? Their lives? Their childhood? All the fun they had had, the pranks, the adventures, and the laughs. They had become who they were now during those years. He remembered vividly all the times they had gotten in trouble, only for it to be totally worth it. All the lessons of life they had learned together. To have lost all of that...it was just...terrible. Unthinkable.

Papyrus felt himself fill with a strong hate for the time loops; for Chara and her horrible resets. It had robbed Sans of so many things; sleep, peace of mind, memories; and who knew what else. Sometimes it felt like they were lucky Sans was even alive, the pure weight of what he had been through threatening to destroy him from the inside out.

"WELL, BROTHER," Papyrus started, and his voice cracked for a moment with emotion. If Sans couldn't remember, than he would help him feel as though he did. "I CAN TELL YOU WHAT I REMEMBER. THAT WE, UH, WE WHERE RAISED IN AN ORPHANAGE, I GUESS, BUT IT WASN'T A BAD PLACE. THEY WERE NICE, AND TOOK GOOD CARE OF US. THEY MADE SURE WE HAD EVERYTHING WE NEEDED UNTIL WE WERE OLD ENOUGH TO GET OUR OWN PLACE." He smiled weakly, but it flickered out almost immediately.

"YOU WERE SICK A LOT IN THOSE DAYS, AND DOCTORS USED TO SHOW UP ALMOST EVERY DAY. THEY WOULD ALWAYS TELL ME TO WAIT OUTSIDE YOUR ROOM WHILE THEY CHECKED UP ON YOU. ONCE OR TWICE THEY TOOK YOU AWAY, SAYING YOU NEEDED 'SPECIAL TREATMENT' AND YOU DIDN'T COME BACK FOR...DAYS."

Papyrus frowned deeply, his eyeless sockets fixed staring down at the sheets clenched in his bony hands. "I-I HATED IT WHENEVER THEY DID THAT."

Sans had managed to sit back up again, his back against the headboard and his knees brought up to his ribs. His gaze had steadied, as had his breathing, his focus now filled with hesitant curiosity. "What...What was wrong with me?" Maybe, somehow, that might solve their problems. Though, even before Papyrus answered, Sans knew it wouldn't.

Papyrus shrugged uncomfortably, obviously bothered by just the thought of it. "I DON'T KNOW. BUT YOU SLEPT A LOT, LIKE YOU DO NOW, BUT NOT A NICE SLEEP. YOU ALWAYS LOOKED LIKE YOU WERE...IN PAIN." He shuddered, slamming the conversation shut with a sudden clip of vocabulary. "I DON'T KNOW. I DON'T REALLY REMEMBER MUCH OF IT EITHER." He frowned down at his own hands, and only looked up when he heard Sans give a gentle chuckle.

"I'm sorry, Pap. Maybe it would be for the best if we didn't remember."

Papyrus couldn't help but agree, though he really did remember a lot more than he was admitting. Images of his dear, older brother, sick in bed; so weak that he couldn't even eat. It had frightened him then, and by everything he knew and understood, it still frightened him. And it was these midnight terrors of Sans' that brought those memories back. Whenever Sans was at his weakest, physically or emotionally, it brought that same sense of hopelessness slamming back into Papyrus. And he hated it. He hated it so much. And there were not many things the Great Papyrus hated.

"YEAH," was all he could come up in answer, and it didn't seem nearly enough. After a moment, he saw that Sans had settled down quite a bit, his breathing and magic having calmed a good deal. "YOU THINK YOU'LL BE ABLE TO GET SOME SLEEP NOW?"

Sans shrugged lazily, his usual continence returning a little.

"HOW ABOUT YOU TRY, OKAY? AND MAYBE TOMORROW WE CAN TALK WITH ALPHYS. PERHAPS SHE CAN HELP YOU WITH...THIS."

"I don't know..." Sans looked doubtful. "I don't really want to get the others involved in this. They've got enough stuff to worry about, just getting settled here above ground. I don't want them to worry. Anyway, it's just a few bad dreams; nothing I haven't dealt with before."

 _YEAH. BUT YOU'VE NEVER SCREAMED QUITE THAT LOUD BEFORE._ It seemed louder every time.

"THEY'RE ALREADY WORRIED, SANS. AND IT'S NOT THAT BAD REINTEGRATING WITH THE HUMANS. I'M SURE THEY'RE FAR MORE CONCERNED WITH YOU RIGHT NOW.'' He paused, and the two brothers sat in silence for a time, one trying to give comfort and the other trying not to show just how desperately he needed it. Then, tentatively, Papyrus spoke again. "DO YOU WANT ME TO SIT UP WITH YOU? I MEAN, I WOULDN'T MIND IF THAT'S WHAT YOU N-"

Sans shook his head fondly, though his eyes were still a little dimmer than usual. "Pap, really...I'm fine." He gave him a very weary smile. "Go back to bed, and I'll see you in the morning, alright?" While his voice promised truth, his appearance did not, and it took a few more tries before he finally convinced Papyrus that he was going to try and fall back to sleep.

"WELL, ALRIGHT. BUT YOU'LL CALL ME IF YOU NEED ME?"

"You got it, buddy."

With a tired nod, the taller skeleton carefully displaced himself from the bedside, pausing only a moment more before turning and heading back to his own room, flicking off the lightswitch as he did.

Sans waited for Papyrus to get up and leave, listening for the sound of rustling sheets, knowing his brother was back in bed. He waited further, listening to the slow ticking of a clock somewhere in his room. Man, he had forgotten he had even owned one. It was probably hopelessly buried under a mountain of dirty socks or something. Probably not the right time either. The humans had something they called Daylight Savings, and, though Sans had a tenuous grasp of how it worked, he was very certain his clock hadn't been 'corrected'. In fact, the batteries were probably just about ready to die. He lay there, listening to the silence, waiting until Papyrus' snores drifted in.

Good. His brother was asleep again.

Lifting the sheets off of his lower body, Sans swung his legs over the bedside, pausing a moment before he slid off and gently landed on his feet. That was the nice thing about being an individual without skin or organs; any of the things that gave weight to a person. Being nothing but bones made skeletons exceptionally good at being stealthy, a skill that Sans readily put to use now.

Creeping to his door, unslippered feet sinking into soft carpet just as Papyrus had, Sans gently gripped the handle, and ever so slowly opened it. He grit his teeth when the hinge gave a quiet creak of protest, and he paused, listening, convinced that Papyrus must have detected it. But, to his relief, he heard Papyrus give a moan, before the rustle of sheets and the twanging of springs told him that his brother had simply rolled over, the snoring continuing.

With a sigh, Sans slipped out into the darkened hall, making his way along it and then down the stairs to the living room. He walked slowly into the room's center, standing there in nothing but his white shirt and shorts. He usually didn't expose that much of himself, preferring to hide within the safety of his oversized jacket. But right now, that hardly would have helped. He currently felt as though there was nowhere he could truly feel safe.

It was dark here too, but in a blue, gentle sort of way. It was a place filled with the presence that they all shared in the room during the day, unlike his room, which only served as a prison for his thoughts. At least here he could sit up, or even move around, without fear of waking someone. For, if there was one thing he was certain of right now, it was that he was not going to be able to get back to sleep. Not after a nightmare like that.

He could hear the sound of crickets out in the fields surrounding the small, countryside home. They sang of the beautiful, moist summer they had been having. The sound gave Sans something to focus on, and he stayed like that, standing frozen in the middle of the livingroom, listening.

"Sans...?"

The voice made him jump, whirling about and throwing him out of his momentary peace, which he hadn't even been aware he had accomplished. His left eye lit up defensively, hand half raised, ready for a fight, before he realized what he was doing and who was standing before him. Everything dropped; his hand, the light in his gaze, his stance; the only thing rising being his embarrassment.

"H-Hey there, kiddo."

Frisk stood silhouetted against the nightlight glow coming from the kitchen. She must have followed him downstairs, and he hadn't even noticed. Man, he really needed to learn to pay better attention. Of course, Frisk was also quite skilled in the tactics of being stealthy.

"You lied," the child stated softly, but even then it was firm enough to make Sans flinch.

His answer was toneless and tired. "What do you mean, Frisk?"

The girl moved forward, her eyes glittering in the half-light in a way that made the skeleton nervous. But he hid it well, knowing that Frisk would never hurt him; not in this timeline. She stopped right in front of him, and Sans was suddenly very aware that the child had grown sometime in the last few months. She was looking down at him slightly, by a good inch, right into his eyeless sockets, and he was tempted to look away. Since when had she grown up so much? How old was she now? Eight? Nine? Nine. Well, what did he expect? Human children could grow quite quickly, and they had already been on the Surface for over a year.

"You told Papyrus that you'd try to go back to sleep." She sounded angry, or at least indigent; scolding. It was the tone of voice that Papyrus usually held whenever he told Sans to pick up his socks, or to wake up in the morning when he slept in too late. "You lied."

"I just didn't want him to worry," Sans replied, hating the slight tremor that was all at once in his voice. He really didn't need this right now. He stared right back into her own beautiful, brown eyes, trying to hold his resolve and not think of all the times he had seen Chara stare at him similarly, only in hatred. It wasn't long before he had no choice but to look down at his feet. "Alright. Yes, alright, I admit it; I lied. I'm just...I _will_ go back to sleep, Frisk, I didn't lie about that. I...I just need to get sleepy enough to know that when I fall asleep, I won't have another...another nightmare..."

His voice trailed off miserably, making him truly feel like the weakling he was. There was a long silence, in which the sound of yet another clock could be heard ticking away; this one probably with the correct time. Not that it mattered. Who cared what time it was anyway?

Finally, Frisk gave a shallow sigh. "Sans, I just wanted to make sure you're alright."

"I'm fine. Never been better." He wished that hadn't sounded quite so bitter.

"You're lying again." The child shook her head; light, brown hair all fuzzed out with static, after having just climbed out of bed. She reached forward, taking hold of his hands and holding them between them. She wouldn't look at him now, and just like that their roles were reversed; the comforted becoming the comforter, and vice versa. Her hands seemed incredibly cold, and Sans instantly regretted not bringing his jacket down with him. "Sans, I can't help but think this is all my fault. It's my fault that there were all those...timelines...those genocide runs and-"

Sans felt his soul dip with a sudden need to allay her fears, guilt tugging at himself for even letting the thought ever cross her mind. "Don't. Don't say that, kid. And it's _not_ your fault. You _know_ that. It's not what you think." It was so different. So very different. He couldn't even explain it, his mind was just too confused and garbled. How could he explain that the terror that haunted his dreams was not Frisk, not even remotely? How do you convince someone that they haven't hurt you, when they're so very certain they have?

"Then...what is it?"

"I...Kid, shouldn't you be in bed?" He suddenly felt mentally drained, wishing nothing more than to be alone. But, at the same time, he dreaded it. He just wanted to drop the whole thing.

_Please, I don't want to talk about this anymore._

He knew that his statement wouldn't have any effect. Frisk was far to forceful and concerned to be set off track so easily. She was DETERMINED after all. And, even now, on the Surface, it was a trait that thrived in her very strongly.

Sans climbed up onto the couch, right in the corner, pulling his legs up to his ribs just as he had done upstairs. He was hoping Frisk would take that as a closing to the conversation. No such luck. The kid climbed up right beside him, moving closer in a comforting way. There they were again; switching roles. She shifted her arm under his, hugging him gently, her voice barely higher than a whisper.

"You're more important."

And that was that. He didn't argue, and she no longer pushed for any answers, at least not tonight. They had both been put through terrible things in the past, some even at each other's hands. It was like a lion and a lamb lying side by side, eyes slowly lowering in sleep. But the question was who was the lion and who was the lamb? Neither one could claim to be innocent. And even though the others knew of the timelines, of the time loops, and of some of the horrible things both Sans and Frisk had been forced to face, and were still facing in their nightmares, there was no way they could truly understand. They could try, but it would never reach the true depth of the pain and scars those horrors had caused.

But right now, that was washed away, and for the first time that night, Sans felt a little more at ease. The tenseness left his bones, leaving him limp and relaxed. He allowed himself to sink into the cushions of the couch, holding Frisk beside him as though afraid to let her go. She was like a little sister to him, in a way, and even when maybe it was her who was safest in all of this, he could never stop protecting her. And they fell asleep like that, child and skeleton. When the others woke up the next morning, descending the stairs, they made no comment on the living room's two occupants, instead smiling fondly. Frisk was a very smart child, despite her young age. She had known that that had been what Sans had needed, and the others, Papyrus especially, were glad that she had been willing to give their friend the comfort he had so badly needed.


	2. All For a Smile

Sans opened his eyes, blinking rapidly; the first thought in his mind being relief that he had not been torn from slumber by any more nightmares. His second thought was the realization that a warmth beside him was no longer there and that he was now the only occupant on the old, worn couch. As usual, he had overslept, and Frisk had long since awoken and gotten up to start her day. The blanket draped neatly over him proved that, though he had been left alone for the time being, he had not been forgotten.

Raising carefully, he slipped down off the couch; bare, bone feet landing in the carpet soundlessly. He had forgotten he hadn't slipped on his slippers before coming down the night before. He felt rather uncomfortable without them, or his jacket, once again feeling exposed, but he didn't feel up to climbing the stairs at the moment. Instead, he started his way toward the kitchen, where all manner of chattering and clacking dishes informed him that the others were having breakfast. Which was exactly the case.

The minute Sans walked into the kitchen, he was greeted by the loud and cheerful voice of Papyrus, who was standing by the stove and helping Toriel with whatever it was they were cooking. The kitchen smelled warm and sweet, the slight dusting of flour covering a few of the flatter surfaces. The sizzling of something being cooked in a skillet filled the room with its excited spattering.

"SANS! GOOD MORNING!" Papyrus left the goat-like woman's side, turning his full attention on his brother, as the others, who were sitting at the table, looked up, their faces still holding a little bit of leftover concern from the night before. "WE'RE MAKING SOMETHING CALLED THE FRENCH OF TOAST! WANT SOME?"

Despite his light and excited tone, Sans felt that there was still a hint of anxiety to his brother's voice. It was well hidden, and subtle, but there all the same. Sans concluded that he would just have to work extra hard to convince him, convince them _all,_ that he was just fine, and there was no need to worry.

Sans eyed the stove suspiciously, trying to determine if allaying Papyrus's fears was worth the possibility of being poisoned. It was a known fact that, though Papyrus loved to cook, his food was always distinctly distasteful. Whether it was something as simple as a boiled egg or as homemade as a plate of spaghetti, it always tasted like it shouldn't, and it had always been very hard, back in Snowdin, when Papyrus had been the only one to cook. Sometimes it had been so bad, Sans had actually been motivated to get up and go to Grillby's, rather than face his brother's meals. And that wariness of his brother's cooking had stayed with him, even now that Toriel was trying to teach Papyrus how to do it properly. The fact that Toriel was standing at the stove _with_ Papyrus gave Sans some hope, and the reassuring smile she sent him enhanced it, deciding for him.

"Sure."

His answer seemed to fill all those within earshot with relief, and tense shoulders and strained smiles diminished to chuckles and refocused attention to other things. Frisk even gave a little giggle as Sans sat down beside her and ruffled her already bedraggled hair fondly. The feeling between them was clean and loving, just as it had been since their current timeline had begun. It was almost impossible for Sans to see Frisk as anything other than the sweet, caring child that sat beside him now.

_Almost_.

Sometimes, when he wasn't monitoring his own thoughts, he would see that face; that young, little face, twisted in an evil, murderous grin. When that happened, he had to hold his breath and close his eyes, calming his soul until the image passed. He really had to try hard sometimes not to freak when that happened, but Frisk always understood. She really was a remarkable kid.

Toriel placed a plate of breakfast in front of Sans, giving him a gentle smile when he looked up at her. She made sure he had a fork, and that everyone else was set, before she grabbed her own plate and sat down between at the head of the table, opposite Asgore and to Frisk's left. Papyrus joined them a moment later, choosing the only available seat across from Sans, to Undyne and Alphys' left, next to Asgore. Then, with a will, the entire company dug into their early morning meal.

Sans had to admit, Papyrus's cooking was improving under Toriel's direction. Not that French toast was really something that could be easily messed up. It was just bread, right? Dipped in egg and cooked to a golden brown. How hard could it be? Of course, Papyrus's spaghetti had always been terrible, and that was just noodles boiled in water and then mixed with sauce. Simple didn't mean better in his brother's case, but Toriel was actually making progress. And for that, Sans was grateful.

The peace and warmth that radiated around the table banished all thought in Sans' mind of the night before. The sun was streaming through the window, dust motes slowly shifting in the beams. His breathing was even, satisfied, as he started to eat away at his meal. Syrup was passed around, and idle chatter filled the patches of silence. It was, in truth, a wonderful sensation. It filled him with a feeling of belonging and hope, two things that he had very nearly lost before the resets had finally come to an end.

The resets.

How long had it been now?

Almost a year.

Almost a year and a half and still no reset.

Sans had found that hard to believe at first. Within the first month of their time on the surface, Sans had been in complete and utter denial that it was going to last. He hadn't slept. He hadn't eaten. The others had become frantic, Frisk most of all. It was then that he had spilled everything; told them all about the resets, and Chara, and the looping timelines that had become his own personal torture. He had told them everything. He had broken down, and that was putting it mildly. But everything had turned out fine. Once he had gotten all of that fear, and pain, and insanity out of his system, his friends had actually been able to help him, and heal he had. Frisk had done most of it, and for that he was still bewildered. Wonderfully bewildered. Bewildered that she was actually not Chara; that his life had finally moved on from that endless death; that horrible, endless hell...

Sometimes just the thought of it was more than he could stand. It was so hard sometimes to remember that it was actually over, and whenever it actually sank in, he was almost dizzy with relief. Sometimes just the thought of it was more than he could stand. It was so hard sometimes to remember that it was actually over, and whenever it actually sank in, he was almost dizzy with relief. Traumatized? That word didn't explain even half of what those resets had done to him. He had felt broken, stretched beyond his limit, and spent; and yet here he was. He was safe, free, and, for once, completely happy. Now if only he could get rid of those memories...

"SANS?"

The smaller skeleton startled slightly, looking up from his plate where he had been unconsciously staring. He was greeted by six worried faces, all watching him with concern in their eyes. No one was eating anymore, and they all looked tense. Gaze flitting between them, Sans' eye sockets settled on Papyrus as his brother spoke again.

"SANS, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"

Was he alright? Why? He felt alright. Why in the world would they suddenly be so...Oh. _Oh._

Sans looked down in nervous surprise at the bright, blue light emanating from beneath his white shirt. It was unusually strong, he thought, not that that mattered. He focused on his glowing soul with a sense of mild curiosity. He wasn't fighting anyone, and he wasn't really all that upset about anything. Not _too_ upset. Nothing out of the ordinary.

"I'm...fine?" He hated that he couldn't sound more certain. This had happened once or twice before, after a particularly bad night, but he had always had the thick barrier of his jacket to help hide it. It didn't hurt, and it didn't seem to harm him in any way, so he typically ignored it. This time, however, he had forgotten. Sans mentally flinched at the sound of a chair scraping softly against the kitchen floor.

Papyrus was getting up.

Since when had everything changed? A moment before the room had been filled with happiness and cheer. Now everything felt cold, those worried eyes staring into him, trying to read whether he was actually alright or not. As though they feared he'd suddenly just crumble mentally, or maybe even physically. It sometimes annoyed him, how they were all so aware of his frailties. So he was small, and short. So he only had one, stink'n HP. So what? His magic was stronger than most of them knew, with the exception of maybe Frisk. And even she looked concerned.

_Darn it._ He really needed to get a hold of himself.

Papyrus slowly moved around to his brother's side, settling to a kneel right between Sans and Frisk's chairs, settling a gentle hand on Sans' shoulder. He frowned when Sans flinched ever so slightly. "IT'S ALRIGHT...WE'RE LISTENING, SANS. IF YOU NEED TO TELL US SOMETHING, ANYTHING, WE'RE HERE." The words were filled with such patience, all Sans could do at first was stare into his brother's face.

"I...um...Pap, it's really not that big of a deal..." He glanced back down at his glowing soul, confusion clearly visible on his face.

He blinked at it, wondering what in the world could make it glow like that. A soul usually only did so under certain circumstances, like during a fight. Of course, souls were tricky things, and, even with all the extensive study that had been done on them, no one truly knew all of how they worked. This might just be yet one more mystery of science. Focusing on the glow seemed to sooth it, and a moment later the blue soul faded back to its invisible state. He looked up at the others, his seemingly eternally smile sliding back into place.

"Welp...that was an en- _lightening_ experience. Heh." The smile faltered a little when neither Toriel nor Frisk chuckled at his pun, and none of the others so much as groaned.

There was an uneasy silence.

Finally, Toriel lowered her gaze down to her plate, poking at a half-eaten toast with her fork. "Sans, I'm worried about you." She shifted a glance to each of the others. "We all are."

Sans blanched. "Look, it's really not-" Toriel looked back up, meeting the skeleton's gaze, cutting him off.

"It is not just _that_ , Sans. Your nightmares have gotten worse, and...well, you just have not been yourself." Her expression softened further. "We have not done anything about it, because we did not know what might help. But, at this point, I think anything would be better than nothing. You need to rest, and I don't mean taking a nap. Whatever it is that is bothering you-"

"And I'm sure you won't tell us what _that_ is," Undyne muttered lowly under her breath, but was quickly silenced with a stern glance from Asgore. Toriel continued.

"-I think you just need to get your mind off of...everything." She stood, gathering her plate and dropping it in the sink before turning back to Sans. "How about you take Frisk into town today? I was going to do it, but I do have a lot to do here around the house." She noticed his hesitation, prompting her to press a little harder before he could argue. "It would really help me out. I have some papers to grade, and I do not think that is something she would enjoy helping me with."

Sans seemed to consider, as Frisk watched him carefully, a solid ache in her soul. She hated that he had those terrible nightmares. And it was made all the more painful knowing that it was all essentially her fault. She knew his night terrors were the results of hundreds of memories of alternate timelines, and, frankly, she sometimes wondered how he could stand it. She herself sometimes remembered things, a feeling here a bit of deja vu there, but the actual memories of what she had done were hazed, to the point where they really weren't much of a threat to her. But Sans...he was a different story.

He claimed it wasn't her fault. He claimed the dreams weren't what she thought, and maybe they weren't, but it didn't make her feel any better. It pained her to see him struggle through this, but at least he wasn't facing it alone.

Sans blinked slowly, turning to Frisk. "Would you like that, kid?"

Frisk jumped at the opportunity, having not expected their friend to give in so easily. The child nodded eagerly, flashing him a genuine smile. That seemed to perk Sans up a bit, and he grinned back with his usual continence.

"Alright, then. I could use it, seeing as last night left me feeling a little... _rattled_." This time he was happy to receive both giggles and groans from his audience. There. That was better. "I guess it would be nice to get out for a while."

"I WANT TO COME," Papyrus announced, standing up from his crouched position.

"Can he?" Frisk asked excitedly, glancing to Toriel, as though she somehow held sway over the adult skeleton's life. Unsurprisingly, Papyrus looked to her as well, waiting for permission like a child himself.

Toriel chuckled. "I do not see why not. It is Saturday, and there is nothing else that needs to be done." She smiled. "Just be back in time for lunch. The weather is supposed to grow unpleasant later."

"DO NOT FEAR!" Papyrus grinned with a salute. He intertwined his bony fingers with Frisk's fleshy ones, smiling as though it were his birthday and he had been given all his dreams. Papyrus was like that, right from the center of his very soul. Happy and eternally positive. "I PERSONALLY WILL MAKE SURE MY LAZYBONES BROTHER AND I GET THE HUMAN BACK BY NOON, SAFE AND SOUND."

Sans gave a shrug, his smile growing cheeky at being called 'lazy'. "What would I do without you, bro?"

"I REALLY DON'T KNOW, SANS. I _REALLY_ DON'T KNOW."

It didn't take long to help clean up the table from breakfast, and then they were out the door. Sans breathed in the cool, summer morning air with relief. He realized he might have been a little more tense than he had thought. That nightmare really had frightened him a lot more than his dreams usually did, but out here, in the bright sunlight, all the darkness in his mind was finally chased away. Birds chirped in the field, and grasshoppers hummed, a gentle breeze reaching out against the grass, making it sway like a sea of green. As they walked down the path, Sans felt a hand slip into his, and, looking over, he was greeted by Frisk's bright smile. It was a smile of trust, love, and friendship, and it touched him deeply, just as it always did these days.

In fact, that smile seemed to be what motivated all of them these days, Sans most of all. It was like a promise that things were finally better. That the true nightmare was over, never to haunt them again, other than in a certain skeleton's dreams. But, as long as the truth was still this, even those dreams were worth it, as scary and painful as they were. They all wanted Frisk to be happy. And with that laugh still beside him, they were headed out into a world Sans had once thought he'd never see. He glanced back at their new home; what had been their home for quite a while now. It was an old building, probably a farmhouse once, and was still placed firmly in the center of overgrown fields. Some called it the 'Old Bentley Place', on account of the human family that had once owned it many years before. But, by most monsters, especially those who lived within it now, it was better known as the Redemption House, or simply Redemption.

The boarding home was owned by Toriel and Asgore, who had set it up soon after the monsters had come to live on the Surface. There were many others like it, housing families of various species. they ranged from in the city, to the fringes of the country around Mount Ebott, and were the easiest way for monsters to afford homes so soon after arriving. The humans weren't quite ready to share dwellings yet, and, frankly, neither were the monsters ready to share with them. It was some sort of odd, consented segregation. For now. Until things grew a little less stressed in the two groups relationships.

Toriel's Redemption House was home only to those who had been a major part of Frisk's quest through the Underground; those who had played a part in her story, and were closest to her. They hadn't planned it that way but, after all they had been through together, when the time had come to split ways, they had found they simply couldn't do it. They had become a sort of family for Frisk, and they couldn't take that away from her. Or themselves.

They all helped out around the house, raising Frisk and taking care of other such business. Since neither Sans nor Papyrus really had any sort of 'real job,' they had automatically become Frisk's almost constant companions. They went with her everywhere, and did everything with her. They helped her with homework, taught her the lessons they could, and generally just made sure she was kept happy and safe.

Tensions had subsided in most respects since the monsters had settled, especially since Toriel and Asgore were back together. It hadn't been much of a surprise, but it had been something the others were relieved to see. Their adventures in the Underground, to help Frisk and set the timeline straight, had re-proven to Toriel that Asgore was the same individual she had always cared for; always loved. It was a slow process, taken in small, hesitant, baby steps, but it was better than nothing, and it tended to warm the very air when they smiled at one another.

Undyne had become a sort of peace officer, which was almost a joke, considering her nature. But she did her best to ensure that monsters were being treated fairly, and that monsters weren't taking advantage of the humans in return. She did her job pretty well, and so far there hadn't been anything other than a few street fights, which, needless to say, Undyne made short order of in a most enthused fashion. She was happy, and that was all that mattered, as long as she didn't start any fights herself. Which, most knew, would probably make her _very_ happy.

Asgore and Alphys were helping in the negotiations between monsters and humans, and, according to them, it was going mildly well, considering. It was hard to banish years of fear and prejudice, but, for the most part, the humans were very accepting. Slow, but getting better with each day. Of course, it wasn't just the humans who were at fault in the snail-paced productivity; monsters likewise were frightened of the humans. Tensions in that respect had not completely disappeared. But it was promising, and no violence had broken out anywhere that they were aware of, so it was considered a work in progress. Not as quickly as Sans would have liked, but what did he have to say in the matter? It wasn't like he could speed things along. Out of all the monsters, humans seemed most weary of skeletons. Or, at least, that was Sans' observation. Maybe that had something to do with humans having skeletons themselves, inside of them. That was kind of alarming, Sans had to admit.

Despite his inner impatience, Sans knew that, most of the time, change doesn't happen all at once. It happens in bits and pieces, over a serious of hours, days, weeks, and years. Why? Well, for one thing, if it all happened too fast, no one would be able to handle it. The shock would be too great, and the pure jolt of it would probably send their souls fluttering into nonexistence. So, in a way, it was good. It was better this way, with the monsters, after so many years forced below ground, being re-instituted among the humans slowly. Culture shock was very much a real thing, for both sides. But sometimes, Sans wished it would all just hurry up and straighten out.

The short skeleton realized they were on the road leading to town now, having sort of zoned out in thought. Living in the country was nice, but it meant no buses came within easy access. Walking had become their way of transportation, much to Sans' annoyance. It had been hard at first, walking to town and back, and he had resorted to using his short-cuts, just as he always had. But with time he grew accustomed to the exercise, and actually started to enjoy it. And it wasn't that far a walk from Redemption to Ebott City. Though the monsters did own a car, that was saved mostly for Alphys and Asgore, when they had to make quick trips to town for meetings. No, walking wasn't really so bad, and today was especially pleasant.

"Where you want to go, kid?" Sans asked, his sudden breaking of the silence actually causing Frisk to jump, before she smiled.

"Maybe the library?" she asked, tilting her head. "I like it there. They have a lot of good books."

That was certainly true. They hadn't really had much for such places down in the Underground, though they had existed. But there hadn't been that many monsters who wanted to read human books at that time, other than scientists, who used them for study. But, here on the Surface, books seemed to have become an intense fascination, and Frisk was certainly no exception.

"Fine by me. Pap?"

"I WOULD VERY MUCH LIKE TO SEE THE LIBRARY OF BOOKS!" he cried happily, a spring in his step.

The taller skeleton was pleased to see that Sans did not need to be carried much these days, his older brother having grown stronger since leaving dark and cold Snowdin for the warm rays of the sun-lit world above. He had hoped it might raise Sans' HP, and had even talked to Alphys about it. The scientist often gave her friends check-ups, making sure their reactions to the surface were nothing but healthy. Sadly, despite how happy and healthy Sans had become, Alphys said his HP of one had not budged. He was still a short, frail little thing. Just like he had always been. Papyrus sent his brother a side glance, feeling a warmth in his soul at the sight of Sans and Frisk chatting together cheerfully. Papyrus was determined, as always, to keep both of them safe. No matter what. And that resolve, like his brother's HP, would not budge.

Being fairly early in the morning, and a Saturday, Ebott City was pretty quiet when the trio arrived, comparatively. The usual hustle and bustle of people shuffling off to work was replaced with the calm of a sleep in morning. You could almost imagine the sighs of relief from every window, as though the weekend was all these humans lived for. And that was probably not an exaggeration. Frisk seemed to feel much the same way about school.

Not that there weren't some people out and about, it was just relatively bare for this city. A woman, dressed in casual wear, slunk by walking her dog. A man, huffing and puffing passed them on the street. And a few children with a basket ball were headed toward the park. That was really it for visible population, but it was steadily growing as the city finally awoke. Sans couldn't help a soft chuckle.

"And they call _me_ lazybones."

It wasn't hard to find the library, since it was very clearly marked. It was a tall, proud building, with pillars and a wide stairway leading up to the oaken doors. It looked like something out of the Iliad. To Papyrus and Frisk's dismay, the library had not yet opened, and the had to wait a good twenty minutes before the doors were finally unlocked and swung open. Papyrus and Frisk rushed inside, while Sans followed at a more reserved pace, shrugging his shoulders with a grin at the various other people who had gathered to wait as well.

"This is a pretty big library," Sans commented to one woman, giving her a grin. "Must be a multi- _story_ building." He was hoping for a chuckle at least, but the woman just seemed annoyed. Nothing new. She walked inside without so much as a comment. Sans followed slowly, his grin a little less pronounced. "Okay then."

The skeleton climbed the steps and entered into the building with a neutral expression. He had never been in this library before, but he knew generally what to expect. Sans secretly disliked libraries. It wasn't that he didn't like books, for he liked to read from time to time when the fancy took him, and it wasn't the quiet that unnerved him. It was the windows. Of all things to be uneasy about, that had to be the most ridiculous. But it wasn't just the windows, it was the light that came through them. That cascading, golden light coming through those long, tall windows reminded him quite vividly of the Judgement Hall, and everything that went with it. He tried not to focus on that, keeping his gaze fixed on things at his level, following Frisk as the child scurried from shelf to shelf. He knew this place meant a lot to Frisk, and he was more than willing to endure a little discomfort for her sake.

Frisk didn't seem bothered by the library's illumination, her face all smiles as she fingered over the titles of countless books. The city library had an extensive collection, and Frisk enjoyed it to its fullest. She had always enjoyed a good book, and now that life had actually resumed, she found the old habit returning. She moved swiftly from section to section, dragging Papyrus by the hand. Though the taller skeleton wasn't much of a reader, his energetic nature making it hard for him to sit down long enough to actually finish one, he still found the library a fascinating place and shared in Frisk's enthusiasm.

Sans slowly sauntered after the two, trying not to notice the odd looks people kept sending their way. He tried not to think too much about it, dismissing the human attention as simple curiosity. But he was tired of the stares he received whenever he walked the streets. It made him hunch his shoulders so that more of his puffed blue jacket managed to hide more of his face, hiding the blue flush of embarrassment from anyone who might see. He was tired of having to explain to Papyrus why people didn't always return his enthusiastic greetings, shunning him like he was some kind of..some kind of...of...

Monster.

Over time, and even before, the word had ceased to be a name given to a proud race, and had become a title of scorn and hate. It was slowly being brought back to its more innocent beginnings, true, but not fast enough for Sans. Why couldn't the humans see that they were harmless? After all, a single human soul was more powerful than the souls of almost every monster combined. What threat could they possibly pose to something so powerful?

_Heh. So much for not thinking too much about it._

"SANS! SANS! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

Sans jolted from his thoughts, moving a little more quickly, realizing that he had lost sight of both Frisk and his brother. They hadn't gone far, only around the corner, down one of the thin aisles lined with some of the thicker volumes. Sans turned into the aisle, watching in amusement at the sight of Frisk sitting atop Papyrus's shoulders, both of them pointing to a particularly colorful book that was still out of their reach. An older human, further down the aisle, gave the pair a look of disapproval, sticking his nose up at their literary enthusiasm.

"SANS! THE HUMAN AND I CANNOT REACH THAT BOOK!"

Sans gave a chuckle. Looking up at the cumbersome volume, he gave a large grin. "That one? Papyrus, bro, don't you think that book's a little-"

"SANS! DON'T YOU DARE-"

"- _above_ you?" Sans grinned harder as his brother gave a loud moan. It was a bit of a stretch, but it was so worth it. "Or too _high_ a level for your reading skills?"

This time, Frisk _and_ Papyrus groaned.

"Sorry. Sorry, that was kinda _low_ of me, wasn't it?"

"SANS! I INSIST YOU DESIST THOSE HORRIBLE PUNS!"

The smaller skeleton gave a shrug, a thousand more coming to mind. But, for now, he'd comply with his brother's wishes. "Alright, alright. But, seriously, Pap, you might want to use your indoor voice. Librarians don't really appreciate a lot of noise."

"THIS _IS_ MY INDOOR VOICE!"

Frisk giggled at the brief flash of irritation that flitted across Sans' face. "Can you whisper, Papyrus?" she asked gently, gazing down into his eyes from over the skeleton's head.

The taller monster's face screwed up in confusion a moment, before he gave a careful nod. "THE GREAT PAPYRUS CAN DO ANYTHING," he stated, still definitely not a whisper, but probably as close as he would ever come.

Frisk giggled so hard she almost fell from Papyrus's shoulders. She glanced back down at Sans, a fond smile on her face. "Sans, can you get that book down for us? Papyrus and I want to see what it is."

Hardly before she had finished speaking, the book above her head was enveloped in blue magic, carefully shifting out from between the other books before drifting right into Frisk's outstretched hand. The moment she touched it, the blue magic faded. She smiled down at Sans again, this time in thanks. Until a sudden gasp behind them caused the two monsters and their human charge to turn.

The elderly man who had been there before was gone, but in his place stood an equally old, prim and proper woman, small glasses perched on the very bridge of her nose. Her eyes, which were wide and blinking, were filled with obvious disapproval. The look immediately made Sans bristle.

Papyrus, on the other hand, forgetting all about their talk about having an 'indoor voice', gave the woman the biggest grin he could manage. "WELL, HI THERE! YOU MUST BE A LIBRARIAN! THIS IS A VERY NICE PLACE YOU HAVE HERE, SO VERY NICE AND CLEAN! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, APPROVE!"

"Out."

The trio blinked, confused. Sans tilted his head in confusion. Paps was pretty loud, he had to admit that, but surely that required a simple warning, not getting kicked out of the library.

"Excuse me?"

"Out," the librarian reiterated, a hand indicating the direction of the door. "There is a strict policy here against monsters using their magic. If you can't control yourself, I suggest you leave."

Oh.

_Ohh._

It was that kind of prejudice, huh? Again, even though, for the most part, monsters and humans were integrating pretty well, there was still a good handful of the population who were against the whole thing. Or feared monsters. Or just plain hated them. This discrimination was really starting to grate on Sans' nerves, and that wasn't something easily done.

"I'm sorry," the smaller skeleton gritted tightly, trying to keep his voice neutral. "I won't do it again."

The librarian didn't look convinced. "I very much doubt that. I want you two, and the child if she's with you, out. Now. Or I'll call the authorities."

"BUT FRISK HASN'T HURT ANYONE!" Papyrus protested, carefully lifting the child down from his shoulders and setting her on the floor beside him, an arm wrapping protectively around her back. He was looking at the woman as though suddenly trying to determine if she was actually human. Most humans were kind, and understanding. Most of them. This one, for sure, was not. "NONE OF US HAVE," he added as an after thought.

Sans' eyes narrowed, staring the woman down hard. Her scowl didn't relent even a bit. "It doesn't matter, Pap," he said lowly. "Come on. Let's go." He reached forward for Frisk's hand, gently leading her out past the woman, Papyrus slowly following. As they passed her, Sans took the book from Frisk and stiffly returned it to the librarian.

"Here."

He would have really liked to have told her off, but with Frisk standing right there, he was reluctant. He was certain that anything lengthy coming out of his mouth at this point would not be kid-friendly. Sans simply made sure his attitude got the point across. Then, taking both Papyrus and Frisk's hands this time, Sans moved through a short-cut, taking his brother and friend with him.

The librarian looked enraged, seeing as the little skeleton had seemed to use his powers on purpose, out of spite she was sure. But, seeing as their was no longer anyone to endure her wrath, she gave an indignant huff, taking the book back to the front desk with her. She placed it in the re-shelve pile, making a note to clean it of monster prints before putting it back.

* * *

They reappeared some distance up the old, dirt road on the way back to Redemption, which, Frisk noted, was a longer distanced short-cut than Sans usually used. The smaller skeleton was obviously upset, not that it was necessarily visible; Frisk and Papyrus just knew how to spot it. It was the way he held himself, the way his hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, feet hitting the ground with a bit more weight than they usually did. Of course, that might have been the fault of the sneakers; he wasn't quite used to them yet. It had taken weeks to convince the short skeleton that slippers were really not appropriate footwear for the city. At home, they were fine, but out and about they were not. He had stubbornly refused to change over at first, until one day, in the city, he had tripped on the curb and stumbled out into traffic. Almost getting hit by a car, something that would have killed him instantly, had finally convinced him.

For some reason, Frisk felt somewhat responsible for Sans' mood. If she hadn't been so darn determined to go to the library, they might have actually had fun. Now, here they were back on their way home, and it wasn't even late morning yet. But Frisk couldn't find it in herself to be mad at Sans. If anything, she was frustrated with herself. It was her fault Sans had used his magic in the library; she had asked him to. But that was in the past, and all the child wanted now was to help Sans forget the whole incident. Which wouldn't be easy, since Sans had a memory like a steel trap.

The skeleton was leading the way, not really focused on anything other than the ground he was walking on, not even really aware of his friend and brother trailing silently behind. That is, until Frisk's hand latched onto his sleeve, her pace matching his.

"I'm sorry about all that," she said softly, giving his arm a squeeze.

Sans almost lost his balance in surprise. She was acting as though she were the one to blame. "It's not your fault, Frisk."

"No," the child responded firmly. "But she is one of my own. It's like a part of who I am, my race, being mean to you, and I can't stand it."

Sans gave a careful chuckle. He removed a hand from his pocket and ruffled Frisk's hair fondly. "I wouldn't put too much thought into it. The negotiations are supposed to solve all that. Eventually."

"EVENTUALLY," Papyrus repeated softly behind him.

Sans turned his head back to look at his brother, noticing that all the excitement and happiness from before had faded away. And it was his fault. Here he was dragging the two back home, and they hadn't even had any fun. He suddenly felt very regretful for having taken such a long-traveling short cut. But then, as he scanned the horizon of the countryside, his face lit up in its usual grin.

"Hey, what do you two say we stop by the creek?" he suggested cheerily. "We can hang out there until noon, what'd ya say?" His words were greeted with much enthusiasm.

"THAT'S A GREAT IDEA!"

"We can catch frogs!"

"AND SWIM!"

"And hunt for little bits of smooth glass!"

"I'll take that as a yes?" Sans laughed as his two companions hugged him, relieved to have that buzz of joy around him again. Gloom was not becoming of Frisk or Papyrus. That had always been his department.

The depressive mood was broken after that. Papyrus and Frisk chatted animatedly about what they would do at the creek, and before they even knew it, they were standing on its banks. The creek was located halfway between Redemption and Ebott City, slowly slinking through the fields in the countryside. It was one of those deep, slow moving creeks, definitely deep enough to swim in. The tall grasses were flattened around the water, bent to the side, probably a result of the creek overflowing a several days before, before the water level had gone back down. The water was pretty calm, and so Sans deemed it safe.

With a whoop, Papyrus shrugged out of his t-shirt and tugged off his sneakers and socks, his white ribs catching the sunlight. Ever since coming to the surface, the taller skeleton had abandoned his body armor, since there really much need for it anymore. He had adopted a new fashion sense that made him a little less standoutish, if that was an actual term. He wore shirts and shorts, much like Sans did himself, though with a much larger range of colors. With another laugh, Papyrus took a running leap in nothing but his shorts, executing a perfect cannonball into the center of the stream. There was a relatively loud splash, though Papyrus's lack of weight definitely dulled the impact. It's hard to make a big splash when you're nothing but bone.

Frisk looked to Sans, as though looking for his permission, her face all aglow with anticipation. The crisp summer morning had gotten hot very quickly, and the sparkling water certainly looked inviting. Especially with Papyrus treading water and calling her in.

Sans gave her an encouraging smile, removing a hand from his coat pocket to gesture to the water. "Go ahead, kid."

With a cry of joy, Frisk removed her own shoes and socks, jumping in without hesitation, narrowly missing Papyrus. She disappeared underwater for a moment, before she popped up again, sending a splash right into Papyrus's face. The taller skeleton brother sputtered a moment in surprise, before his face lit up with mischief, retaliating in kind a moment later.

Sans watched the escalating water battle from the shore, smiling contentedly. It was nice to see the two of them so happy, and it warmed the small skeleton's soul. He had really caused those two a lot of grief since coming to the Surface, and Frisk even before that. Of course, he was well aware that many of the more horrible resets back then had not been Frisk's fault, they had been Chara's. But that still didn't help remove the guilt that he had actually killed that child more times than he could count. And yet, here they were now, very close friends; almost family.

They were on the Surface. The Barrier had been broken, and yet he had still caused them grief. Almost immediately after moving into Redemption, Sans' nightmares had begun. Scared the living daylights out of everyone, and he had insisted it was nothing. They hadn't been convinced; then again, why should they have been. He had been a wreck. After thousands of timelines of reliving the same few days over and over, the prospect of actually living in a linear world, where there was a distinctive past and hope fore a future, had terrified him. He had managed to hide it for a while, other than at night, but then even that had become too much. When one night, during a particularly violent nightmare, Sans had hurt himself in the throws of his dream, that had been the last stray. The others had gained up on him, demanding he tell them what was wrong, and in that moment of emotional weakness, he had told them everything.

It had gotten easier after that. Slowly, he had started to heal, and the others made every attempt to help him adjust. Toriel shared jokes and puns with him, Asgore and Alphys talked science with him, which he seemed to enjoy, and even Undyne tried to help out in her own way by helping him train a little. Not really his cup of tea, but he accepted it gratefully as the fish-like woman's outstretched hand of friendship. Frisk, being the only other individual to truly understand, had been the most supportive, with the only exception being Papyrus. Nothing and nobody could stop Papyrus from healing his brother.

Which was why a dark wave of guilt washed over Sans now. After several months of doing so well, the nightmares were back. It didn't even matter if they weren't his usual ones, or that he couldn't even really remember them at all. The point was that he wasn't feeling safe, and he felt as if that were a spit in the face to all the others had done fore him. He knew they hated to see him so small and frightened after a nightmare, just as much as he hated being seen. And he had no idea what had caused the darn things to act up again in the first place. He was happy; genuinely happy. Happier than he could truly remember ever being. And yet, this thing still plagued him, and he wasn't even sure what it was.

Sans sighed, staring up at the sky above before closing his eyes. He really was so tired of the nightmares.

Suddenly, a wave of cold fell over him, effectively snapping him from his depressed thoughts. It made him gasp and sputter, for a moment his mind telling him that he was being attacked by some cruel magic. He expected any moment for the agony to begin; the agony that had always accompanied the strange or unexpected. But then, slowly, as his body felt no pain, his bones relaxed, and his senses climbed down from the high peak they had jumped, and he realized that he was wet. Not just wet, but soaked.

"What...?"

Opening his eyes and looking down at himself, he realized that all he had been hit with was ordinary, cold water. It had saturated his white shirt, causing it to literally stick to his ribs transparently, and his blue jacket had turned a darker shade under the amount of saturation. Surprised, but in every sense relieved, Sans looked up, an expression of confusion on his face.

He was greeted by the smiling grins of both Frisk and Papyrus, who had crept closer to the shore as he had been lost in his own thoughts. Papyrus's hands were still posed from the motion of the splash, and his grin was widest, marking him as the culprit. But there was something else in his brother's face that Sans just couldn't quite place. Yes, Papyrus looked happy, but he also looked...worried? _Why you worried, bro? I'm alright._ Then Sans had a mental image in his mind of what his deep thinking might have looked like a moment ago to an outside source. He had surely spaced out. Papyrus might have been startled by that. Maybe the splash hadn't been all fun and games. It had been meant to snap him out of whatever had gripped him.

Needless to say, it had worked.

Regaining his own smile, Sans pushed his dark thoughts deep inside of himself, where they would leave him alone. It was daylight, and his horrors were only supposed to bother him in the dark of night. This was not the time. Slipping out of his dripping jacket, his eyes and smile never once leaving Papyrus or Frisk's gaze, the smaller skeleton took a running leap, landing between the two with as big a splash as his diminutive frame could manage. Frisk squealed happily as he sent a small wave of water her way, drenching whatever part of her had not yet gotten wet.

Frisk couldn't help the laughter that burst from her like airy light. It was wonderful. She cared for these monsters so much; every single one of them. It filled her soul with more happiness than she had ever known. Especially when she saw Sans like this. Smiling. Chuckling. Genuinely _happy_. He had lightened up so much since their journey through the Underground. With the time loop resolved, and an actual future in front of him, his entire nature had changed. Frisk giggled at the thought. Sans was still lazy, that could never be denied, but his demeanor was far more energetic, and less hopeless. In fact, there were times now that he practically radiated hope. Sure, he was still having those terrible nightmares, and Frisk dreaded them almost as much as the skeleton did himself, but even that couldn't stop the healing. She could see it in him; sense it. Slowly but surely, his soul was healing. Just as they were all healing.

Another wave, meant for Papyrus, caught the child in the face, leaving her giggling and spitting out water as her hair hung like a wet veil over her eyes, concealing her face. She heard Sans' grunt of amused frustration, parting her hair just in time to see the smaller skeleton rousing his magic. Blue, beautiful and mesmerizing as it had always been, the magic curled and swooped, carrying a fair amount of water into the air, encased within the electric blue. Papyrus gave a cry, but was too late to escape his brother's 'attack'. In a tremendous wave that knocked the taller brother clear under, Sans released his magic and Papyrus was completely and quite literally _dunked_.

Papyrus resurfaced with a gasp, floundering until he seemed to recover a bit, his own face returning to a grin as an orange glow surrounded him. It was an all-out water battle after that. Magic, used at its lowest, to ensure no one got hurt, lifted and dunked and splashed. the creek was filled with the sounds of their amusement, and Frisk's shrill cries of excitement and joy. All thoughts of the night before was erased from all their minds. There was just the here and now. And the here and now was wonderful.

Finally, when they felt as though they had become a part of the creek itself, the threesome staggered out of the water onto the bank. Their clothes were heavy with water, and they laughed at each other as they struggled to keep their shorts up, griping the material so they wouldn't fall down around their ankles. They stood on the shore, talking and joking, allowing the air to dry them off a little before they would start back for home.

The wind had picked up, blowing leaves across the waving grass with small sounds of soft brushing. Tree branches above them swayed, dipping low before springing back up with every ebb and tide of the breeze. The sky had turned a dark grey, much to their disappointment. That was the thing about living at the base of Mount Ebott, the storms would come over the mountain hard, pouring out its wrath unexpectedly. With the mighty, rocky crags towering up over them, they could never see the storms themselves until it was too late, and it was upon them. They had grown accustomed to it, however, and it had simply been accepted as a part of life Aboveground.

"We haven't got much time before that hits us," Sans commented, still chuckling from their fun. He walked back to the part of the shore where he had left his jacket, snatching it up and holding it beneath his arm. He'd put it on, but him being soaked would only get it equally wet, not that it wasn't already dripping. The air had cooled, and he would have enjoyed the warmth it would have given him, but they were close enough to the house that he figured he could make it. "Let's get back." Frisk, smiling as bright as the sun had been only a short time before, slipped her cold fingers into his bony ones. With Papyrus at their side, the threesome made their way away from the creak and began to cross the fields once more.

Frisk shook her head, spraying water out in all directions from her hair, laughing as the other two flinched away, smiling. Sans looked from her to his own soaked clothing. It was so drenched that he could feel the material sticking in between his ribs. Papyrus was no better, his t-shirt clinging to him like a damp rag.

"Toriel's going to be mad with us,' Sans stated, without much conviction in his voice, proving that it really didn't matter to him whether she was mad or not. They had been having a fun time, and that was something, especially for Frisk's sake, and that he would do almost _anything_ for. The child had been through enough hard times. Enough suffering. They _all_ had. So they got in trouble for getting a little wet, so what? It had been worth every moment of that kid's smile.


	3. Not Quite Right

They had just come in sight of the house when the skies seemed to open up, spilling forth the most rain they had received all season. It pattered into the dry dirt and wiped through the tall grasses like a whispered song. It was cold on their backs, the drops having cooled on their way down to earth. The air was already significantly cooler than before, a front having blown in over the mountain with the dark weather. The big, billowing clouds were a thick grey, almost black, and, in the farthest distance, bluish lightning reached down like claws. It had been a scary thing to witness when the monsters had first made it to the Surface, and it had taken a full season of such storms before they had grown at least somewhat accustomed. Papyrus, who had initially been afraid of them, had come to love watching the streaks of light with Frisk from the comfort of Redemption's living room window. Sans, on the other hand, was still weary of them.

As they traipsed along, Frisk started to shiver a little, despite it being summer. The wind had picked up, carrying a slight chill that felt nice, but was also a little too extreme for a wet, dripping child. Sans quickly took his jacket and draped it over her shoulders, giving he a fond smile when she gave a hum of gratitude. Yes, he knew it was wet, but it would protect her from some of the the chill at least. Frisk looked at him, eyes still dancing and cheeks still pink from their fun at the creak. Laughing again, she grabbed his hand and started running across the field in the pouring rain, dragging him right along with her, Papyrus giving a whoop as he picked up the pace to follow.

By the time they reached the porch of Redeption's old frame, feet thumping against the paint-chipped wood, they were absolutely drenched, even more so than they had been after coming out of the creek, if that was at all possible. Something about this water that fell from the sky was more real than the water that had always come from and within the mountain. But it felt good. Refreshing. Cleansing.

Grabbing the handle enthusiastically, Papyrus whipped the door open, and the three swept inside, letting in a good deal of wind and water as they did. They hurried in, slamming the door shut behind them and leaned their backs against it, chuckling and wheezing as they tried to catch their breathes. That is, until they realized Toriel was standing, frozen, before them with a look of surprise clear in her expression. It looked like she had merely been passing by the threshold, arms full of apples, probably for a pie later that evening. Her eyes searched theirs, blinking as she tried to process their sudden entrance. Her surprise, which had stilled her in the hall, one foot raised to take the next step, turned to a stern scolding frown, with an equally disappointed voice.

"There you three are! You should know better than to run about in the middle of a storm! What if there had been lightning? You could have been hit!"

Sans gave a soggy shrug, water dripping down his legs and pooling on the floor beneath his muddied sneakers. "Then I really would have been _shocked_ ," he grinned, doing it in a way that sounded like he didn't care, but was an obvious apology, just by the slight tilt of his head. He heard Frisk giggle and Papyrus moan, but he kept his gaze level with Toriel's, waiting for her to break. She couldn't resist a good pun, and if she at least smiled, he'd know his mistake with keeping Frisk out in a storm would be forgiven. He didn't have to wait long.

Almost against her will, a smile cracked through Toriel's frown, leaving her chuckling. She had become very fond of all their group, becoming a mother figure to Frisk, but also to all the others. It was simply in her nature to care for them, and, sometimes, she felt she truly was in charge of them, as a friend, a Queen, or whatever else. Sans and Papyrus, though certainly old enough to take care of themselves, as they had done in Snowdin all those years, but somehow, by how they acted sometimes, it felt like they were closer to being children themselves than anything else. But Sans _had_ seemed to have taken Frisk on as a second younger sibling, and for that Toriel was grateful. It meant that she could always count on him to keep Frisk safe, even if they did tend to get into mischief as well.

"Wait there," she directed with a sigh, stepping out of the hall and out of view, even though her voice was still as clear as day. "Now, I want you three to dry off and then go and get into something clean and warm. I will not have any of you getting ill over a simple downpour."

Sans sent Papyrus and Frisk a knowing glance, reminding them that their little dip in the creek was to remain a secret. It was summer after all, not winter. Toriel had a habit of mothering over people to the excessive. Most times, it was nice; to be fussed over and told to go here and told to go there, but it could get a little tiring at times. Though everyone seemed to tolerate it, except maybe Undyne. Sans put Toriel's motherly authority up on the same level as his brother's nagging, both of which he treated with a smile and a shrug.

Despite it all though, Sans obeyed Toriel, more than he obeyed anyone's authority. Why, he couldn't be sure, but it felt somehow as though he did it for her own good. When he did as he was told, he felt as though he were doing it for the sake of helping her. Maybe it was because she was so kind-hearted, or maybe it was just because, in reality, he was just a soft-hearted shrimp. Either way, he sometimes worried over how intent Toriel was at watching over them. If she had her way, Sans was sure the goat-like woman would take the entire world under her wing. And while that was certainly was a nice thought, it simply could not be done without tearing her in every which direction. Being motherly was all well and good, but one can only care for so many people. And Sans felt privileged to be one of them, and showed his appreciation by doing what she asked.

Toriel stepped back in sight, handing the child and the two skeleton's a towel each. "Hang them in the laundry room when you're done with them."

Frisk accepted the large towel, a material that was softer and larger than most. Living in a home with monsters meant that many typical, every day objects were of a considerably greater size. It draped around her like a blanket, and warmed her instantly as her giggle was lost in the fabric. Papyrus helped her with her hair a moment, before he accepted his own towel from Toriel and started working on slowing the water dripping off his own person.

Like Frisk, Sans always found the towels to be far larger than his small body needed. He set his jacket down by the door, a small puddle forming around it as he worked on drying his white t-shirt.

Once the human child was deemed dry enough to walk across the kitchen floor, Frisk was hurried by Toriel to the staircase and instructed once again to get dressed in something dry. The child disappeared up the steps, her smile still pasted on her small face.

Sans and Papyrus startled as a great clap of thunder shook the house almost to its very foundation. Both of their souls pulsed to life, for a moment, an old habit of self-defense that was really no longer needed. There were certain things that the monsters would have to get used to on the Surface, and thunderstorms were one of them. Down in the Underground, such storms had never been audible beneath the mile or so of rock that had separated them from the Surface. The loud sound above their heads sometimes made them forget that there was nothing but open sky over their heads, rather than cave ceiling. For, back then, if there was ever a noise that loud in the Underground, it more or less meant something was caving in.

That was only one of the many things the monsters had been thrown into experiencing for the first time. There were cars, rainstorms, lightning, thunder of course, and all manner of humans that they had never witnessed before. There were so manner customs they weren't accustomed to, and mess ups and misunderstandings were eminent and frequent. It was an equaling difficult time for the humans as well, seeing as they had to get used to the many species of monsters. Everything was in a state of tension, and Sans really only truly felt it when it caught him off guard, like the thunder had.

Finally having dried off enough so that he was no longer dripping, Sans gathered his jacket under his arm, planning to hang it up in the laundry room along with his saturated towel. Kicking off his sneakers, Sans gave Papyrus a smile as he shuffled into the hall. His brother continued drying himself by the door, having a lot more bone and material to cover than Sans did. The shorter skeleton tossed his wet towel and coat into the laundry bin, something he'd probably be scolded for later, and started his way through the kitchen, toward the staircase that would lead up to Redemption's second level.

The kitchen smelled fantastic. Of course, with Toriel as Redemption's cook, it always did smell fantastic. But this was better than fantastic. The air was warm and sweet, like it had been that morning, only of a sharper quality. The nearly overwhelming aroma of slowly baking apples was so thick it was almost a breathable substance. That, mixed with the scent of a baking pie crust, was enough to drive any hungry soul mad.

Toriel sent him a smile as Sans shuffled past, continuing to chop the extra apples and store them for another time. "You know," she said gently, "You might be able to catch a nap before lunch, if you fall asleep quick enough."

Sans snorted. "You're looking at the fastest snoozer this side of Mount Ebott." And that was probably very true. "Sleep comes to me so naturally, I can do it with my _eyes closed_."

Toriel chuckled, but it died in her throat as Sans suddenly stumbled, falling to lean unsteadily against the wall beside the staircase with a gasp. "Sans?" She hurriedly laid down her knife and the half-cut apple, rushing to the skeleton's side. "Sans, dear, what's wrong? Are you alright? Sans?" When she didn't get an answer, the goat-like monster rose her voice, calling in panic. "Papyrus!"

The taller skeleton came stumbling in a moment later, towel still wrapped around his shoulders and eyes wide. Toriel never shouted, and to hear her raise her voice, especially indoors, meant that whatever was wrong was urgent. The minute Papyrus' gaze settled on his brother he was rushing forward, trying to help Toriel in steadying Sans as the smaller skeleton seemed to be struggling to catch his breath. Toriel's eyes widened as Sans' soul faded into existence, and widened even further as Papyrus' own chest lit up in orange. She had seen this before, in both of them. It was that one other time that the two skeletons' souls ever lit up other than in a fight. They were almost...connected in a way. Must be a sibling thing.

Whatever it was, it seemed to help, as Sans slowly started to come out of whatever fit had gripped him.

Sans felt distinctly ill, his nonexistent stomach doing somersaults, making his head spin. He seriously wondered if skeletons were capable of being violently sick, since he could never remember becoming such before. He felt shaky and rather disconnected from everything around him. He was vaguely aware of Toriel's hands steadying him by the shoulders, but everything else was flickering in and out of focus, as he leaned against the wall weakly. But the ill feeling only lasted a moment, as unpleasant as it was, and by the time Papyrus was kneeling beside Toriel, bony hands keeping hers company on Sans's shoulders, Sans was beginning to recover. He gave a careful sigh, taking in his next breath with equal care, afraid that celebrating too soon would bring the discomfort back. But it didn't.

"Sans? Sans, dear, are you alright?"

Pushing himself away from the wall, regaining his balance, he gently shook himself free of his friend and brother's hold on him. He answered Toriel uncertainly at first, picking up confidence as he spoke. "Yeah...Yeah, I'm fine...I guess the thunder has just got me a little _rattled_...I'll be alright."

Toriel wasn't so sure. Sans still wasn't looking up at her, and just the way he was leaning told her that he wanted her to release his arm, but must have been too afraid of hurting her feelings to do so. Reluctantly, she let go, watching him carefully as he regained his balance, which almost slipped when he was left to stand without assistance.

Papyrus, however, didn't seem all that worried, taking the pun with a moan, knowing that if Sans had enough strength to make bad jokes, then he must be all right. "YEAH, WELL, ENOUGH FOOLING AROUND." He started scooting and urging his brother out of the kitchen and toward the staircase. "WE STILL NEED TO GET DRESSED." He sent Toriel a reassuring smile. "WE'LL BE RIGHT BACK DOWN."

With that, the younger skeleton took his brothers wrist, pulling Sans up the stairs to the second floor, with Sans giving small protests. Toriel watched them go worriedly. It wasn't unusual for Sans to brush things off, but it was unusual for any form of unease to actually show in the skeleton's face. Though, Toriel had to admit she was getting pretty good at reading Sans. Since when they had first found out about the resets, and how badly they had effected the little skeleton, Toriel had begun paying far more attention. And, sometimes, she honestly could say she didn't like what she saw. But Sans had been getting better. Maybe this was just some sort of minor relapse. She couldn't be sure, but she knew she would be there for him. They all would be.

Her mind slightly appeased, Toriel went back to her cooking.

* * *

Frisk felt warm and clean in her fresh clothes, heart swelling with content. It really had been a very pleasant morning, even if it hadn't really started out as such. She closed the door to her room, making her way for the staircase just as Papyrus and Sans made it up the last step. She stifled a giggle as she saw what was now the familiar sight of the taller skeleton marching Sans down the hall to their adjoined bedrooms. Sans flashed her a shrugging smile as they passed, and the giggle finally left Frisk in a rush.

"Hey, when you two are dressed, would you like to come down and play a game?" she asked cheerily, nodding down toward the living room.

Papyrus turned, stopping just in front of his bedroom door, looking back and grinning. He let go of Sans's wrist, giving Frisk a slight bow, which, despite his sincerity, looked ridiculously silly. "I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WOULD BE HONORED! I SHALL BE THERE IN A MOMENT!" He stepped out of sight, the hall rattling as he shut the door a little too harshly in his excitement.

Sans flinched at the sound, as did Frisk, before the smaller skeleton gave the child a gentle smile. "Sure, kid. Probably won't play, but I'll watch though."

Frisk nodded happily, skipping out of the hall and down the stairs, yelling back that she'd go and pick out what game they could play.

With a chuckle, Sans slipped into his own room, shutting the door but not locking it. He knew no one would walk in. He did, however, half shut the door between his and Papyrus's room, for privacy. He could here his brother tearing through his closet, looking for something that suited his fancy of the day. That was the thing about Papyrus; he was governed so much by his moods, that even his clothes spoke of how he felt. Sans had long since noticed that, could he help it, the happier Papyrus was, the brighter his color choices were, while the downer he felt, the darker. And after the nice morning they had had so far, Sans expected his brother's outfit to be something resembling a clown costume.

The smaller skeleton started digging through his own piles of clothing. Some were dirty, but some were folded, clean. He selected a white shirt and a fresh pair of shorts, slipping into them slowly as he let his mind wander back to what had happened down in the kitchen.

What was wrong with him lately?

What had set him off? He couldn't think of anything. He was aware that he sometimes had these little fits, and he had grown accustomed to them. But he was usually a little more careful about the others seeing them. Usually it had to do with some memory or other about one of the genocide routes; the sight of a knife or something. But those had been slowing down lately. And he had been looking right at Toriel as she was cutting those apples, and it hadn't set him off. Delayed reaction? Maybe. But he didn't think so.

So what then?

That pun. Something about his own pun had done it. Sleep comes to me so naturally, I can do it with my eyes closed _._ What the heck was so disturbing about that? And yet, it was disturbing...somehow. Like he had once used it. Used it, and wished he hadn't. As though something bad was connected with it, but he couldn't for the life of him remember. That was really...weird.

There was another crack of thunder, almost instantaneous with the bright flash of lightning, and, despite himself, Sans found himself flinching under the noise that very nearly shook the house to its very foundation. Back in the Underground, the monsters had never had to deal with such violent weather. They had had snow in Snowdin, sure, but not these storms where the very sky above seemed wrathful and fierce. It was going to take a lot of getting used to, but anything was worth being on the Surface. There were so many wonderful things, like stars, and rainbows, and fresh, cool breezes, that the few things in the world that were a little less pleasant really didn't matter. Though, it was sometimes hard to keep that outlook during the middle of some vicious downpour.

"Sure is loud," Sans called to Papyrus, preparing to slip his dry shirt over his head. But then he paused, noticing with a frown that his hands were shaking. And not the slight shaking of cold or nerves, but the type of shaking that seemed far more pronounced than it should be. He didn't feel cold, and, though he was a little nervous about the storm, it was hardly enough to account for this. He stared down at his bony fingers a moment, watching how they shivered and shook, as though the motion both surprised him and fascinated him.

"WHAT'S THAT?''

Papyrus's voice answered his from the next room, having not heard his brother's words. While normally it wouldn't have been worth repeating, Sans found that it broke his distressed observation, prompting him to answer as he snapped out of his trance-like stare. "I said it's loud!" Followed by another clap of thunder that only proved his point. He heard Papyrus chuckle. Sighing and ignoring his hands, Sans quickly pulled on the shirt, and then grabbed a dry coat. It wasn't his blue one that he had owned for...ever, but it was something he could comfortably wrap himself in until his old one was dry enough to wear again. The minute it was on his back he shoved his hands in the pockets, hiding them from view. No sense worrying Papyrus.

Just what was wrong? Sure, the first month or so on the Surface he had been a wreck. The others had fussed over him and pressed him until he had finally broken down and told them everything. After that, things had gotten easier. They understood him, helped him, and slowly the nightmares and flashbacks had diminished. Thankfully. But now, after several weeks of doing well, he suddenly felt like his tenuous grip on his nerves was twisting away from him. Could you have relapses from something like this? He wasn't sure, but he wanted to keep that thought to himself as long as possible. He didn't want to worry the others, he had worried them enough in the past. He could handle this just fine on his own.

Taking a steadying breath, Sans got a hold of his thoughts and finished putting on a pair of socks. He gave the door between his and his brother's room a gentle knock before entering, walking into Papyrus' bedroom just as the taller skeleton finished pulling on his shirt. Sans went over to the window, gazing out through the rain dashing up against the glass. He frowned, noticing a yellow figure running across the driveway toward the house.

"Heh. I didn't know Alphys would be back so early in the day," he commented with curiosity. Papyrus tugged down on the edges of his shirt as he came to join his brother by the window, moving the certain aside as he peered out.

"MAYBE SHE FINISHED EARLIER TODAY. BECAUSE OF THE RAIN?"

Alphys, a scientist through and through, had been stationed at the Ebott City Science Institute shortly after she and Asgore had taken up the long, complicated process of the Negotiations. Just like in the Underground, scientists held a very high place in these humans' society. And it was between them and the monster scientists that peace was to be made. Them, Asgore, and the Mayor of City Affairs, who apparently held a very high position as well.

Alphys was usually gone from morning until night. She tended to work herself to exhaustion, as did Asgore. It wasn't easy dealing with the human adults. There were so many concerns, problems, and disagreements that had to be worked through. Sometimes, the yellow, lizard-like monster felt as though nothing good would come of it. But the others were very supportive. Undyne especially, who always encouraged her to do her best, made sure Alphys would give up. It would be weak to do so; cowardly to turn back now. Not that Alphys was a coward. In fact, the others though her incredibly brave that she was even doing the Negotiations at all. Sure, Asgore was playing a large part in them as well, but even he admitted that it was Alphys who was working the hardest and was under the most strain.

Sans just hoped all that stress didn't have anything to do with her being home far earlier than she normally was.

Sans and Papyrus made their way downstairs, through the kitchen and into the hall, where Toriel was fussing over a very wet and dripping Alphys. She had handed the lizard monster a large towel, ensuring her all the while that a nice slice of warm apple pie would soon be ready for her. Alphys took the warm, dry cloth thankfully, starting to rub herself down as Toriel went back into the living room.

"Lunch will be ready shortly, if anyone is interested," she informed. Frisk appeared, peeking around the corner from the living room.

"Can we eat in here?"

Papyrus quickly seconded the notion. "IT WOULD BE LIKE A PICNIC! OH, PLEASE, YOUR HIGHNESS, MAY WE?" He still hadn't gotten used to calling Toriel by her name, a little bit of his old self that just didn't seem to want to fade. It was the part of him that had once wanted nothing more than to be a Royal Guardsman. Fate had taken that from him, but had made him something even better. A friend, and a part of Frisk's family.

Toriel gave the taller skeleton a fond smile. "I do not see why not. Alright."

While Frisk and Papyrus rushed to help Toriel carry the food into the living room, Sans made sure to stay out of the way. He wasn't really feeling all that hungry anyway. Instead, he turned his attention to Alphys, leaning back against the wall casually as he watched her trying to wring the water from her white lab coat. She seemed agitated, which wasn't exactly unusual for her, but it seemed worse than usual.

"You certainly are home early," he started carefully. "Is something wrong?"

Alphys startled slightly at the sound of his voice, having not noticed he was still standing there. But, once she had taken a steadying breath, she gave Sans a kind smile. "N-No...Well, n-not exactly. Th-The thunderstorm knocked out th-the power at the I-Institute." She sighed, deflating a little. "W-We were supposed t-to have a m-meeting today a-about something i-important. But n-now it'll have t-to be postponed."

Sans felt a wave of sympathy sweep through him at her crestfallen expression. "I'm sure the city'll get everything back up and running soon, Al," he supplied encouragingly. It wasn't unusual for the great city to suffer blackouts, as thunderstorms were frequent and violent in this part of the country. The humans were used to it. They'd fix it. "Until then, you should take a load off."

Alphys sighed, heavier now. "I-I'd like to...but th-the Negotiations have been a l-little shaky l-lately. The humans f-found something th-that's gotten them a-all upset."

Sans stood back away from the wall, his interest piqued. He was honestly caught off guard by her comment. He was hoping she would elaborate, but just as he was about to ask what she meant the landline phone rang in the kitchen. They were probably the only house on the planet that still had one. Alphys nearly jumped out of her skin.

"O-Oh! Th-That must be P-Professor Hornbern!"

Before the skeleton could say a word he was handed his friend's wet towel as she rushed into the kitchen to answer the call. Sans winced at the dampness of the cloth, quickly shifting around the corner to toss it in the growing, wet pile in the laundry room. He could hear Alphys stuttering on the phone, apologies flying. He felt that sympathy again, but told himself the scientist could handle it all just fine. He shrugged, though not carelessly, and headed for the living room.

He stood just inside the room, hands in his pockets, watching as Frisk and Papyrus spread out one of Frisk's blankets from upstairs on the carpet. Then they proceeded to place the plates of food on top of it, settling down for a pleasant meal.

Toriel had settled herself down on the couch, not wanting to risk the floor, for fear she wouldn't be able to get back up again easily. Sans opted to join her, for the alluring comfort the soft cushions of the sofa. He climbed up on the opposite end of the goat-like woman, She smiled, offering him a sandwich, but he declined, still not hungry.

Frisk and Papyrus had found an old, black and white film on television. Frisk was unusual in that way, she didn't mind the slower paced 'classics' of the human filmography. In fact, she seemed to enjoy them a lot more than the newer movies. Papyrus was perfectly happy with anything, soaking in the culture and language of what appeared to be a movie set in the 1950s. Sans knew his brother would be entranced. The smaller skeleton himself tried to stay focused on the movie, but his attempts proved useless. He was far too tired out from his busy day and restless night. And so, as the sound and sight of the television diminished in his mind, his eyes slid closed, and he surcombed to a deep, grateful sleep.


	4. What's In a Name?

_._

.

_Darkness._

_Nothing but darkness._

_This is new._

_Or is it?_

_It hurts, and it's hard to breathe. The air is so thick it's like trying to inhale molasses. It slides in and out of his ribs slowly, with effort. Discomfort. Anxiety. He has to push down the instinct to panic. The darkness is so full, and final. There's nothing; none of his senses seem to be working. Or maybe there's simply nothing for them to find. He feels nothing, hears nothing, and doesn't see anything but endless, blinding black._

_And he is afraid._

_Because it is...familiar?_

_No._

_Yes._

_No..._

_Confusion._

_He knows where he is, somehow, though he can't put a name to it. His mind is full of the facts, the theories, the possible statistics of this place, but no name is forth in coming. In the name's place there is just an empty gap, almost as dark as his surroundings._

_He can't remember._

_He can't._

_Suddenly, there is a sound. As though it were loud and everywhere at once, and yet was as soft as though it were a whisper in his own head. It sweeps from every direction, converging on his one position, trapping him. He grips his skull, the noise overwhelming after the silence of before. When it finally ends, and he opens his eyes, he is greeted by a dark figure. At first, he thinks it is Chara; it's the right size and shape, but then it changes. Grows. Elongates._

_He calls up his magic, and is relieved to see it work, even in this terrible place. He stands ready to defend himself._

_"Stay away from me!"_

_He knows the figure, but just like the world around him, he can give it no name. There is a gap, another one, larger, in his mind. It almost hurts to try and recall._

_He's forgotten._

_The figure makes a sound, odd and garbled. It's laughing. And not a nice laugh. Mocking. Disapproving. Cruel. It takes a step nearer._

_"I said stay back!"_

_He's shaking now. Terrified. And he can't remember why. Why? There's something far darker in the figure than just shadow. A story. A memory. A..._

_...fear._

_Still it came closer._

_Unable to control his powers under such a threat, he lashes out...but nothing happens. There is no blue glow in his hand, eye, or soul. It sputtered for a moment; flickered, but then seemed to be choked out by the darkness. Smothered._

_The figure laughs again. It is right before him now, towering above him menacingly. A hand, mangled and malformed, reaches out slowly, and for some reason he cannot escape any further away. It is as though a wall were at his back, preventing any movement, despite there being nothing but darkness._

_"S-Stop."_

_But it doesn't._

_As the hand finally makes contact, dark magic, black as night, surges into him, like a shock of electricity..._

_It hurts._

_A lot._

* * *

__'CRASH!'_ _

The thunderclap woke Sans with a sharp gasp. He was shaking, shivering so hard his teeth were rattling together. His eyes were wide in panic, and he almost expected to find the frightening, dark figure right before him, reaching out to cause him harm. To tear agony through his frame, for reasons that Sans could not even guess.

But that was not the case.

He was still positioned on the sofa, where he had fallen asleep; though he was really sitting now more than lying. He was rigid, stiff and tense, and covered in sweat. He was alone in the room now, and the darkened window told him that he had slept far into the evening. The sun had set, and night had fallen. He was glad. Glad that he was alone and glad that it was too dark in the living room for anyone to see him. He let his head fall forward into his hands, trying to get his breathing under control.

It was just another nightmare. Just another cursed nightmare. Though, he had to admit, it had really caught him off guard this time. He didn't usually suffer them during his regular naps throughout the day. That was partially why he ever attempted to rest when the sun was up, and everything was bright and safe. It was the only time he had felt with any degree of certainty that he could sleep peacefully.

Apparently, that was no longer true.

The dream hadn't been the norm either. It hadn't been about Chara, or the Judgment Hall, or the resets...It had been about...about...

He wasn't even really all that sure. Even now, it was fading from his memory. But for some reason it had filled him with more terror than he had felt in a long time. It was different, and Sans didn't like things to be different. After what had felt like a lifetime of the same reset happening over and over, Sans felt comfortable with things he recognized; understood; things that he could predict. He liked things that were familiar. That was why it had taken him so long to adjust to the Surface. After the resets were finally done and over, he had to get used to the fact that everything from then on was new. That each day would be different; would be a surprise. and _that_ , for a time, had _terrified_ him.

His dreams were his own, private hell; but at least he knew what was going to happen. This...This one had been unpredictable, unfamiliar, and unknown. He could not recall any memories associated with those feelings, even as the dream slowly disintegrated from his mind, and he certainly didn't understand what the figure had wanted or even who they were. All he knew was that it was harmful; his soul told him that much. The figure was evil, and cruel, and frightening. And intended him no good, he was sure. And that understanding stayed with him, even when he could no longer even remember the figure's shape.

With a final, steadying breath, Sans carefully pushed himself up and off of the couch, standing shakily to his feet. He stood a moment, rocking from one leg to the other in an attempt to get the weakness out of his bones. To his relief, it worked, and his shivering diminished to nothing more than a small, nervous twitch of his hand. But he could always hide that in the pockets of his jacket.

Now that his panic had settled, Sans realized that there was light streaming into the living room from the kitchen, where the sounds of chatter and dishes clattering under knife and fork could be heard. The warmth that filled him at the sight and sound of it nearly sent him into a shivering of another kind, but he suppressed it. Making sure he was in full control of his emotions, Sans plastered on his usual grin, shoving his hands into his pockets, and slowly making his way toward the warm, orange glow of the kitchen. As he drew closer, he could hear his brother talking excitedly.

"-AND THAT'S WHY I THINK IT SHOULD HAVE ENDED WITH THEM ALL FORGIVING HIM. MERCY IS IMPORTANT."

"Pap, it was just a movie!" That was Undyne's voice. Though her tone was never as loud as Papyrus', it was certainly a close second. "You can't have every movie end with the heroes forgiving the villain!"

"WELL, WHY NOT? I THINK IT WOULD MAKE FOR A VERY HAPPY ENDING. HOW CAN A HAPPY ENDING BE HAPPY WHEN ONE PERSON DOESN"T GET TO ENJOY IT?"

Sans rounded the corner just in time to see the look of frustration flit across Undyne's face. She was losing the argument, and that had her absolutely enraged. This was a normal situation at the supper table, and the others were completely unbothered when the fish-like monster banged her fist on the table, causing some of the condiments to jump and dance upon the wood.

"It's - that's - I - UGH! Alright, Papyrus! Fine! Whatever! I am so done with this conversation." She settled back to continue her meal, a scowl fixed firmly on her face. Papyrus, on the other hand, was positively beaming.

He always won out against Undyne. His kind heart and innocent nature was neutralizing to almost any argument, mostly because, more than half the time, he was right. And the other percent of the time, he was simply too innocent to understand it any other way. It drove Undyne nuts. In an endearing sort of way.

Papyrus lifted his gaze, having seen movement in the shadows, and his face lit up even more when he spotted Sans. "BROTHER! YOU ARE FINALLY AWAKE!"

The others all looked up from their plates, smiling to see him up. Undyne and Asgore must have arrived home at their usual times, completing Redemption's small, ragtag family.

The food smelled and looked good enough, but Sans found with almost a hint of disappointment that he still wasn't hungry, despite the fact that he had missed lunch earlier too. In fact, his nightmare had left him feeling almost nauseous. It appeared that Toriel had made up some steaks, mashed potatoes, and peas. A very fine meal, Sans was sure, but he just wasn't up for it.

"Can you possibly get _any_ lazier?!" Undyne growled, using what little anger she still had left over from her and Papyrus' argument and directing it at him. "You've slept almost the whole day away!" The only reason Sans wasn't offended by her words was because he knew she didn't mean anything by it. Not in a hurtful way. They were all aware that it was very much in his nature to sleep a lot, especially after a hard night, like the one before. And, as a rule, he was far more active then he used to be, and calling him 'lazy' had become almost teasing.

Papyrus got up from his seat, grabbing a clean plate from the cupboard as he made his way to the stove, where the mashed potatoes still sat keeping warm on the burner. Realizing that his brother was preparing to serve him, Sans quickly spoke up.

"Oh, uh, you don't have to get me any, bro. I'm not quite ready to eat yet."

Toriel looked up rather sharply, her smile falling almost immediately. "Sans, I have not seen you eat since this morning. And even then you did not eat much. Do you feel alright?"

"YES, SANS, ARE YOU SICK?" Papyrus had frozen, looking back at his brother with the empty plate in one hand and his other still reaching for the potato scoop.

Sans gave a light chuckle. They were always so concerned. So he hadn't been all that hungry today, so what? It didn't mean there was something wrong, even though there kind of was. He plastered on as big a smile as he could on his face, grinning like all the world was sunshine and roses.

"Aw, come on guys, I'm fine. Like I said, just not all that hungry." Her expression of concern didn't change, so he added, "But if it makes you feel better, I'll have a glass of milk."

For a skeleton, milk was almost the equivalent of what humans tended to call 'energy drinks'. The protein and calcium was very healthy, strengthening bones and whatnot; something that Sans actually needed. Having an HP of one, it was important to try and increase whatever strength he had. Since arriving on the Surface, Sans had felt as though he had grown more durable, even if Alphys' regular checkups didn't show any physical signs of improvement; but, then again, maybe they weren't physical to begin with. Maybe it had more to do with his soul more than anything. Hope was a healer, and his hope was constantly growing.

Sauntering his way over to the refrigerator, Sans allowed his mind to relax, along with every other part of him. He was so tense, and he couldn't even begin to understand why. The nightmares weren't much help. He opened the fridge and searched the contents for the milk. Finding it in the back, he snaked his bony arm around the other refreshments as he listened to his friends' conversation, which, apparently, he had walked in on the middle of, and had been going on, evidentially, before Papyrus and Undyne's argument.

"I-I just wish th-the power hadn't sh-shut down at th-th-the Institute," Alphys stuttered grimly, poking lightly at the pile of mashed potatoes on her plate. "I-It would h-have made it m-m-much easier."

_Oh. That's right._ Sans had forgotten about the power outage Alphys had mentioned earlier. He had just assumed that it all would have been worked out during the day. But, apparently, that hadn't been the case.

"Why didn't they just all meet someplace else?" Undyne growled irritably, reaching over Papyrus's plate to grab the salt, much to the skeleton's annoyance. Pap had always been a stickler for good manners, of which Undyne had none.

Alphys shook her head fondly at Undyne's simple solution to something that was so much more complicated. It chased a bit of her irritation away. "Th-The humans are v-very insistent on h-h-having the Negotiations there."

"Why?" Frisk spoke up after swallowing. She gazed up at Alphys with inquisitive eyes. Her curiosity always got the best of her, though it was certainly how she learned. Toriel, who taught Frisk's classes at the Ebott School of Learning, always encouraged such questions. However, it was Asgore who answered.

"According to some old records, the Institute of Science is built right over the foundations of some very old ruins." He took a sip of cider, drawing out the explanation with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. The others all leaned forward, hanging on whatever word he'd say next. He set the glass down and swallowed. "The ruins, they say, belonged to the building the humans met in before they sealed all monsters beneath Mount Ebott."

Sans finished pouring his milk, pausing to listen.

Papyrus blinked. "AND THAT'S...A GOOD PLACE TO MAKE PEACE?"

"W-We all decided that i-it might be rather m-meaningful to make p-peace in th-the same place w-war was made years a-ago," Alphys replied with a nod, showing her approval. "S-Symbolic, you know?"

"Aren't the humans mad about the power outage?" Frisk asked, a little hesitantly. Remembering the librarian from earlier, she had a feeling that a lot of her kind would have blamed the loss of power on the monsters, just for the sake of doing so. "I mean, they aren't blaming you for it, right?"

"Oh, n-no," Alphys replied quickly. "They know it's b-beyond our c-c-control. But i-it's just a l-little concerning. W-We had hoped to m-meet as soon as p-possible. The Negotiations have b-been a little sh-shaky lately."

Again Sans' attention was piqued. He set down the milk carton, leaving it on the counter as he carried his glass to the table and sat down. Toriel also seemed curious.

"What do you mean, dear?" She turned her gaze from Alphys to Asgore questioningly, causing the goat-like male to wince.

"Well, you see," he muttered, trying to determine the best way to say what he knew he had to. "Various...um, I suppose they could be called 'war crimes', have been brought up by various unforgiving monster families. That is causing a lot of tension." He hesitated. "Hmm, but it is the one that the humans have brought against us that is causing the most trouble."

"What?!" Undyne gave a frustrated growl, hitting the table and sending the condiments jumping for the second time that night. "During the War the humans didn't lose a single person! We're the ones that suffered! Slaughtered like beasts! Ripped to shreds by their magic and strewn around the-"

"Ahem!" Toriel gave a harsh, obviously fake cough, tilting her head in Frisk's direction. After a moment, Undyne got her drift and quickly forced herself to cut down on the descriptions. Toriel gave her a grateful nod before speaking. "What kind of war crimes could they possibly have against monsters?"

Asgore took a bite of his meal, chewing it before answering. "They claim that a monster, and a very powerful one at that, attacked the city only shortly before the monsters were defeated. According to the records, a total of eight humans were killed as a result."

"That's not a war crime!" Undyne declared angrily. "That's just a part of being enemies; you kill each other!"

The table fell silent a moment, each trying to understand the situation. It was during this moment of quiet that Frisk decided to speak up.

"What's a war crime?"

Alphys took it upon herself to answer. "A w-war crime is a-any act committed during a t-t-time of war that goes a-against rules set b-by both s-sides." She sighed, deciding to address Undyne as well. "I-In the very b-beginning of the War of H-H-Humans and Monsters, m-magic had been f-forbidden as w-weaponry. A-Apparently, this monster b-broke that rule, leading t-to the humans retaliating w-with their own m-magic."

"That is very strange," Toriel mused with confusion. "Strange that the historical records do not mention this event." As a teacher, the goat-like woman had taught more than one class on history, most specifically the War period, and she had never heard of this violation of wartime law.

Asgore nodded. "That is why the scientists at the Institute want to address this. It is a very serious matter, and there are many unanswered questions."

In the silence that followed, Frisk frowned down at her plate, mind trying to wrap around this new information. She was a very logical child, orderly and quick minded. She tended to analyze anything new she encountered, doubtlessly a habit she had gained during the resets. When one lived the same thing over and over, one tended to appreciate and cling to anything unfamiliar. Unlike Sans, who favored the opposite.

"But that doesn't make any sense," she spoke up softly. "Human souls are so much stronger. Monsters knew that, even then. Why would this one risk fighting and killing when all it would do would be to cause his own people even more trouble?" And trouble was putting it mildly.

"Th-This monster is s-said to have been the m-most powerful," Alphys supplied, trying to saw her way through a tougher section of her steak, and the motion made the table rock and squeak a little. "A-And his attack and s-success indicates that h-his magic was a-almost as strong as a h-human's."

Undyne made a sour face. "And what was the name of this punk again?" Even though the culprits name had not yet been given.

Alphys frowned as she continued trying to cut through the stubborn bit of beef on her plate. Even that action was anxious, as was everything else she ever did. It was just in her nature, and it added to her almost frantic seesawing of her knife between the prongs of her fork. "I-I'm not really sure. I think it was...ah, hmm, ah it w-was-"

Asgore gave a chuckle, nodding to her as he answered the question himself. "It was W. D. Gaster."

_'SMASH!'_

The dining individuals leaped up out of their seats with a start, jumping back in surprise as milk splashed and glass shattered all over the table's surface, some even spilling down onto the floor. It left white streaks running along the brown top, pooling around their plates, and carrying little pearls of crystal along with it. Some of the glass had landed in their plates, having flown up in the air, landing in the mashed potatoes. The food was no longer safe to eat, unless someone was keen on cutting their mouth and gums to shreds.

The action of the glass shattering, however, had been so unexpected, it took a full moment for them all to realize what had happened, before their eyes turned upward from the mess to Sans with shock written on their faces. The small skeleton was sitting exactly as he had been a moment ago, unmoved, with a definite look of pain on his usually grinning face, his bony hands still clenched tightly around what remained of his drinking glass, though they were visibly shaking. His breaths were short, uneven, and shallow, wheezing as he struggled to give himself the air he needed. Some of the shards had embedded in his hands themselves, despite their solidity, and even though there was no blood, it made the others wince.

Toriel's eyes were as big as saucers, mind not comprehending why her friend would do such a thing, and her first thoughts come out in an indignant shout without her consent.

"Sans! What do you think you're doing?!"

But then she noticed his shaking; shaking so hard that he was rattling against the chair and table he was in contact with, a mini earthquake all in and of itself. He wasn't looking at them, but into space, expression blank but pained. Toriel gave a light gasp, starting around the table, vaguely aware that Papyrus was doing the same thing opposite her.

"Oh my-!"

She and Papyrus reached Sans just before he went completely limp and tumbled from his chair into their arms.

* * *

_'No. No, please don't make me. I...I-I can't do it...Please, just let me go. I've never harmed anyone...and I don't ever want to...Please...Please.'_

_"Try again."_

_How many times was HE going to force him through this? Was it such a big deal? Why was it so important anyway?_

_"Try again!"_

_The commanding voice rose in pitch and he flinched, curling in on himself as though he expected the words to be accompanied by blows down upon his skull. He wouldn't have been surprised. Ever since this had started, he had been treated roughly. He was sore all over, from being manhandled here, and pushed there. He didn't have skin; he didn't bruise, but he felt as close to it as his kind could come. He ached. Where was Papyrus? Why wasn't he there? Though, on second thought, he was very glad that he was not._

_"Do it!"_

_This time there was a blow. Not a really hard one, but one strong enough to sting as the heavy tipped shoe caught him in the side. The skeleton gasped, almost falling to the cold, hard floor as he shifted all his weigh to the opposite leg, giving his right hip a moment to heal from the sudden pain._

_This was ridiculous._

_Surely HE didn't really expect him to-_

_"I-I can't!" he shouted suddenly. His voice echoed all around them, him and the presence that he knew was there, watching, griping a pen and note-filled pad. To HIM, he was just an observation. He was just a simple, stupid, non-sentient subject. He wasn't supposed to ever speak. He wasn't supposed to think. But that had never stopped him before._

_"Don't you understand?! I can't!"_

_He just wasn't powerful enough to do what HE wanted. It wasn't that he wouldn't, he just couldn't._

_There was silence for a moment; terrible, long, chilling silence. It crowded in around him, threatening to suffocate him; choke the very magic right out of him. He began to tremble, realizing too late what his insolence would surely bring. Then he heard it.; that slow, heavy step coming toward him. He started to tremble harder, too weak to run, but too strong to cringe or back down. He knew he was in trouble as the figure emerged from the shadows, face grim and eyeless sockets like his own, filled with black darkness. Dark magic swirled about them suddenly, and that was when it finally sunk in for real, as it had so many times before._

_This was going to hurt._

_A lot..._

* * *

Sans felt something touch his chest, right up against his rib cage, and freaked. Groggy, he wasn't exactly sure what he was fighting, everything was dark, but he was vaguely aware of his bony knee hitting something, hard. He could hear voices, though they were too garbled to make any sense. Things started grabbing him, his legs, his arms, trying to hold him down, which only frightened him more. He fought desperately, images of dark, swirling magic curling about him, threatening to cause horrible pain.

_"SANS!"_

The voice sounded familiar, but did little to calm him down.

'SANS! STOP!"

It sounded more real this time, more solid. The darkness in his vision began to clear, a yellow haze of light growing in his sight, but still he fought, or at least tried to. Something warm and heavy had grabbed him now, pressing down so he could no longer move. It felt like...magic?

"SANS! PLEASE, STOP! YOU'RE GOING TO HURT YOURSELF! OR US!"

_Papyrus?_

That single thought did it. Like breaking the surface of murky water, Sans was suddenly torn back into consciousness, giving a weak gasp as he finally came fully awake. The bright light that greeted him almost blinded him, and he closed his eye sockets again with a wince and a whimper. He went almost completely limp, focusing just on breathing, and the voices around him that he now recognized.

"WHAT HAPPENED?! WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM?!"

"P-Papyrus, please...It's alright. He's j-just trying t-to get his bearings."

_That was Alphys._

"Are you sure? He looks so...weak."

_That was Toriel._

"Toriel, dear, I assure you he is not weak. I can barely keep my magic restraining him."

_And Asgore. He was the one closest to him. It must be his magic that was holding him down. But why?_

"UGH! Good thing that little pipsqueak's too out of it to defend himself, or I'd give him a good beating! I'm not in the habit of roughing up cripples!"

_Undyne._ Sans dizzily wondered what he had done that warranted a beating. not that it mattered, he knew Undyne would never really hurt him. That was everyone. Papyrus, Alphys, Toriel, Asgore, and Undyne. Everyone except-

Suddenly, sending a shiver all through him, Sans felt a tiny hand slip into his limp one. It gripped tightly and yet gently all at the same time. It was comforting, and grounding, breaking the last of the barrier between his muddled mind and true awareness.

"...F-Frisk...?"

Asgore startled at the small voice, looking down at the skeleton beneath his hold with a start, just as Sans' eye sockets opened again, this time to stay that way. The King waited, watching carefully in case Sans started flailing again. When he did not, Asgore gave a kind chuckle, and released his impressive restraining magic from Sans' small form. "Well, well. Welcome back."

"SANS!"

The skeleton was jerked up from his resting place, which he now realized was incredibly hard and uncomfortable, and brought into a crushing hug. His brother's hysterical chattering filled his hearing, sounding terribly loud, but a relief like none he had ever felt. Just knowing Papyrus was there was incredibly calming, and managed to get rid of whatever major panic had still been lingering in his mind. Sans let himself sag in his brother's arms with a strangled gasp, enjoying the sense of safety it gave him.

"OH! SANS! I WAS SO WORRIED! I WAS SO SCARED! DON'T YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN! DON'T YOU EVER, EVER!"

Sans managed a weak grunt in reply, his left hand coming up between them to grip Papyrus's shirt rather unsteadily.

He still felt so confused, and frightened, uncertain of what had happened. But he allowed his brother to scold him, knowing that it was all just a part of how the taller skeleton dealt with things like this, whatever had happened. Something certainly had, and though Sans couldn't for the life of him remember what it was, he knew it had to have been bad. He could remember sitting at the table in the kitchen, but then everything in his mind just went blank in a flash of white and painful blue. And that was something that, if he was honest, scared him terribly. He rested his forehead against his brother's ribs, slumped into the embrace, his right hand hanging limply at his side where a small grip still held his tightly. He was vaguely aware that Alphys was hovering around him, checking him over the best she could with Papyrus practically glued to his front. She sounded both distressed and relieved all at once, stuttering and shuddering like always.

"P-Papyrus, I need t-to do a s-s-scan!" she stressed, gently trying to pry the monster in question back a little.

Papyrus must have complied; because a moment later the warmth and comfort Sans had felt was gone, leaving him open to observation. He wanted to curl in on himself at once, but firm, gentle hands wouldn't let him. Slowly, blinking repeatedly, Sans' vision cleared fully, and he was somewhat startled to see that Alphys was directly in front of him, so close that her two eyes looked like one. She was trying to check his eyes sockets, where she knew most of his magic to be concentrated, but had neglected to warn him. Her mistake. Sans knew that he had nothing to fear from the scientist, but he was feeling oddly jumpy and disoriented, and acted without thinking. He jolted back, almost falling off his perch on the examination table, though, luckily, someone steadied him, speaking softly and rubbing his back ever so gently.

"It is alright, Sans. Just relax, alright? We are all here. You are alright. You are safe. Just stay still, and let us help."

It was Toriel again, and maybe that was the reason he actually listened, working to calm himself and stop moving. As disoriented as he felt, he trusted Toriel instinctively. After all those times he had talked with her through the solid door of the Ruins, timeline after timeline after timeline, telling jokes and enjoying her company, her voice had come to mean calm and peace, and it did so now, slowing his soul's pulsing and relaxing the stiffness in his joints.

Alphys was hovering around him again, waving some sort of device over him, but this time she kept a hand on his shoulder, as though she wanted to make sure he knew where she was at all times. Sans was aware that he was currently being carefully held in place by four people who cared for him deeply, and it made him feel safer than he had in a long time.

He remained like that, slouched and still, growing more and more awake as his nausea and dizziness slowly dissipated, until finally he was sitting up on his own, though he was far from recovered. His breathing was still a little ragged, and he wasn't relaxing fully, no matter what comfort the others tried to give him. He sat fidgeting nervously, eyes fixed on the floor, obviously embarrassed, and wishing very much that he hadn't been the cause of so much worry. But it was more than that. He, for some reason or other, was feeling very uncomfortable there in Alphys' lab. A sense of strong discomfort and dread filled him, unlike he had ever felt down in their basement before, and he couldn't even begin to imagine why. He had spent many afternoons down there with Alphys, having always enjoyed science. It was another one of the many things he had started to get back into once the monsters had been freed from the Barrier. But now, he felt as though everything within the room was a danger; as though something would hurt him, and it took every ounce of his will to keep it hidden. And, even then, he wasn't quite succeeding.

It was a small lab, one that had been set up in the basement of the boarding house to make things easier for Alphys and her research. It came in handy, for many reasons, and was just one more oddity that had followed the monsters to the Surface. It made the place somehow more homey and natural, for some of them anyway. But today something about the various gadgets and instruments made his soul twist uncomfortably under his ribs, squirming even. He tried to focus on keeping his breaths steady, and his mind clear of the strange panic that kept threatening to rise to the surface.

The others had explained that he had passed out, and he believed it. From how he was feeling, head aching and disoriented, it must have been one seriously deep and violent unconsciousness. He had a headache that pounded more than anything he had felt in quite a while, and his hands were killing him from the glass he had apparently smashed between his fingers. Toriel said she had healed them, and bandaged them, before he had awoken, but it still throbbed, and he kept the bony appendages curled in his lap, unmoving. To his left and right of the metal slab he sat on, his friends and brother watched anxiously as Alphys worked hurriedly, gathering various instruments.

Papyrus had positioned himself on Sans' direct right, so close that they were almost touching. It eased his distress over the whole situation quite a bit, and made him at least feel like he was helping. He had been frightened out of his wits when Sans had fallen out of his chair, barely being caught by his friends before greater harm might have befallen him. Sans was typically considered frail, with an HP of one. It would have been very bad had he hit the floor so hard and hurt himself. The monsters and their human charge had been alarmed, to be sure. More than alarmed. In fact, they had been panicked. Alphys had had them hurry the small skeleton down into the basement, laying him out on the metal table that resided there. By then, Sans had already started to come around, and soon awoke, kicking and flailing in a way very unlike his usual, sluggish self. The individual he had kicked, Sans discovered with regret, had been Undyne, who had stepped in to try and hold him still. He had caught her right in the stomach with his bony foot. Which explained why she had been so keen on beating him up, even if the statement had merely been a release of aggravation. Papyrus and Toriel still had their hands on his back, just as a precaution in case he lost his tenuous grasp on his balance, and though he didn't say anything of it, Sans appreciated the gesture.

Digging around in one of the boxes she had yet to unpack, where she kept all of her devices and instruments, Alphys came up with several things, stuffing them into the pockets of her lab coat, leaving one object in her grasp. "A-Alright, let's s-s-see if w-we can figure o-out what h-happened." She walked back over to her patient, raising an arm to bring the device she held, a small, rectangular box, to his chest.

He tried not to react, he really did, but despite his best efforts he found himself jolting away from her, some of that odd, uncalled for panic returning. He felt Papyrus and Toriel hold him a little firmer, to keep him from falling, but it only increased his anxiety. But he did manage to wince at his own actions, seeing the hurt that flitted across Alphys' face.

The scientist herself flinched almost as hard as he did, reacting in kind at the sight of his momentary terror. She tried not to look too devastated, having a feeling that he couldn't help it. There was something very off about Sans, and it was worrying her greatly, especially since he was showing such obvious signs of fear, even of her. And, judging by the way he was trying to reign in his nervous response, it wasn't something he could necessarily control. Deciding that the situation needed to be taken a little more tenderly, Alphys drew back her hand and started talking in a soft, soothing tone, even though her stuttering was still present.

"S-Sans, I'm going t-to monitor your s-soul. It w-won't h-h-hurt, I promise. OK?"

It took a moment, but he finally gave a slight nod, much to all their relief. It would have been hard to check him over if he had refused. Hurting him more, just to make sure he wasn't hurt to begin with, would have been pointless.

Sending Toriel and Papyrus a glance, Alphys moved forward to place the device right over the place where Sans' soul was located. She continued to talk softly, explaining her actions as she went.

"When I start th-the s-s-scanner, it will p-probably activate your s-soul a bit. It won't h-hurt you, but it m-might feel a l-little strange."

She waited a moment for him to acknowledge, which he did nervously, before flicking the device on. It gave a low hum, and Sans gave a slight jolt when his soul turned bright blue, glowing like it did whenever he summoned his magic. Toriel had her hands on his shoulders at this point, not to restrain, but merely to let him know they were there.

Alphys moved the scanner, hovering it over Sans' ribs with a slow, practiced movement. She wasn't a doctor, not in the medical term, but she knew her science. Since her specialty had always been souls to begin with, she was the best qualified for this type of thing. The minute the device was working, Sans' white shirt lit up with gentle blue, the light streaming through the material in the shape of a heart. She took note of how it startled him a little, even though he had been told to expect it.

Man, he was just really on edge.

Alphys didn't call his soul forward though, and for that Sans was grateful. His life force would have been a pitiful sight at this point, and he really didn't want anyone else to witness it. Not right now. Not when he was feeling so...unsteady.

A number of graphs and charts appeared on the large screen on the far side of the wall of the lab, and as Alphys continued her work, she watched it intensely. She really was very smart. You didn't become the Royal Scientist for nothing. While her mannerisms and continence showed a very insecure and nervous individual, her skill and knowledge proved her to be a genius in every sense of the word. Sans realized he had never really told her that, and made a mental note to comment on it more often.

Papyrus wrung his hands mercilessly, eyes flitting between the screen and his brother, once in a while breaking the pattern to look at Alphys. He was worried. Sans was frail, they all knew that, but he had never outright lost consciousness before. Not since they were children, anyway. For the second time in the last few days those memories assaulted the taller skeleton, and he wondered if maybe he should tell Alphys about Sans' condition when he was young. It might not be related, but if it was, he didn't want to take the chance. But, somehow, now didn't seem like quite the right time. He knew what Sans would say; he'd brush it off as nothing, or just stop him completely. That meant that, if he truly wanted to discuss it with Alphys, he'd have to do it later, when his brother wasn't there to contradict him. He concluded that that was what he would do.

"WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH HIM?" he did pipe up, however. No harm in asking. Maybe the problem was completely separate from that nagging inkling in the back of his skull.

Alphys kept her eyes on the screen, hand rising and falling over Sans' rib cage as the scan continued. She wanted to be thorough. Knowing Sans' disability of only 1 HP, she could never be too careful. But, so far, she wasn't seeing any indications of anything wrong. "I-It isn't a-anything real b-bad," she stuttered, confusion in her tone. "H-His magic is a l-l-little higher th-than normal, but o-other than that, h-he seems f-fine." She paused, ending the scan and stepping back, watching as Sans' seemed to relax a bit. "I-If I didn't know b-better, I'd s-say you just had a v-very severe c-case of some k-kind of a-apprehensive fit."

Papyrus' eyes widened, his hand moving to grip Sans' shoulder. He looked horrified. "A W-WHAT?!"

"W-Well, putting it s-s-simply, I'd s-say he had a violent p-p-panic attack." She fiddled with the hem of her white lab coat, eyes watching Sans carefully. Her mind was full of worry. She knew better than anyone what that felt like; to panic and be fearful. She used to suffer them quite frequently before they had come to the Surface. Thankfully, they had gotten much better after that. But Sans, as far as she knew, had never been that sort of monster. Though it made perfect sense, knowing his past with the resets and all. He tended to hold things inside until he broke down; she had only seen this once, when he had told them about Chara and the time loop. Maybe this was somehow connected to that.

Undyne gave a huff, trying to hide her concern through her usual, rough demeanor. "Panic attack? You mean to say he just goes and kicks over for no reason?! Freaks out at nothing?!" She didn't sound angry, necessarily, but more like she wanted a better answer. In all her time of knowing either skeleton brother, she had never seen either one faint. Sans was a laid back, smirky, pun-loving little punk, and to think that something had actually disturbed him enough to literally shut him down was...unsettling to say the least.

"It wasn't at nothing," Frisk observed quietly, just loud enough to be heard. The room fell silent, as each one of them felt distinctly uncomfortable.

"...G-Gaster."

They turned to Sans with mild surprise, since it was the first thing their friend had spoken since his episode. His eyes were fixed on his hands in his lap, and his voice was terribly light, without anything even remotely like the tone it usually held.

"One...One of you said the name...G-Gaster." He couldn't seem to get the name out without tripping over it. If he had had a tongue, he would have cursed it, but he couldn't blame the stuttering on that.

"Yes." Asgore stepped forward, relieved that Sans was speaking again, but feeling guilty that he might have been the cause of the skeleton's distress. "Is it a name you recognize?"

Sans became even more agitated, frowning in a way very unlike himself as he struggled to answer. "N-No...Yes...I-I don't know..." He gave a frustrated sigh, letting his attempt fizzle out. He seriously needed to pull himself together. "I can't remember."

Again. Again something that he couldn't remember. Figures he would be able to remember every save, load, and reset, but couldn't remember the days of his actual life before all that. Figures.

Alphys waited a moment longer to see if he had anything more to say, before she gave her diagnosis. "W-Well, you seem h-healthy enough for n-n-now. But I s-suggest you t-take it e-e-easy for a few d-days." She actually managed a gentle smile, forcing it through her usual nervous expression. Sans appreciated the effort, and managed to smile tiredly back.

Toriel, who had remained quiet for some time, finally spoke up, her hand still on her friend's shoulder. "What about his hands? They were...pretty scratched up." She almost shuddered at the thought. With no skin or blood, the wounds had not seemed nearly as severe as they would have been on someone with both of those qualities, but she knew that skeletons could feel pain just as anyone else could. It must have hurt.

Sans looked down at the bandaged bones, blinking at it a moment before he gave a small laugh. "Heh. Though smashing glass with my bare hands is fun and all, I think I'm going to try and _break_ the habit."

To his surprise, almost everyone in the room gave a small, grateful chuckle. They were all just so relieved that he was acting a little more like himself again, that even Papyrus allowed the pun without protest. Sans thought he even heard his brother give a soft and grateful 'nyeh'.

* * *

Papyrus carefully closed the door to his brother's room, making sure to do so with the utmost care. He knew the door tended the squeak when shut, and, though his efforts were valiant, it still made little difference. The door released a long creak, worsening until Papyrus finally managed to shut it with a hurried click. He hoped that hadn't woken Sans.

The taller skeleton was truly very worried. It had taken them all a very long time to ease Sans' anxiety, and even when they asked and he answered he didn't seem to know what was wrong even himself.

Alphys had given him a clean bill of health, saying that other than a large amount of energy coursing through him, he seemed perfectly fine. And by then, Sans had felt normal, other than being a little tired; which wasn't all that unusual. Papyrus had then taken it on himself to take charge of his brother for the remainder of the evening. He made sure his brother had some water, and then went right to bed. Sans, for his part, allowed it without complaint or protest. And when Papyrus had come in to check on him, he found Sans looking very much asleep.

Papyrus was glad. Sans had not had a good night's sleep in so long. He sort of understood why; Sans had explained it once to them, all those months ago. Remembering the resets must be a terrible burden to bear, and Papyrus increasingly wished that, somehow, he could have shouldered it instead of Sans. He wondered if all of that had something to do with what had happened earlier that night, or if it was something more.

Papyrus blinked, remembering that he had wanted to talk to Alphys about Sans' childhood. A childhood that Sans, apparently, didn't even remember. It made Papyrus' soul feel heavy. He let go of the doorknob, pausing a moment to stare at the drawing taped to his brother's door, before turning and heading with purpose down the hall. He passed his room, not even thinking of going to bed until he had gotten certain things off of his mind. He went all the way towards the stairs, where he came to a halt just outside of Alphys' bedroom door. Taking a steadying breath, he knocked.

"J-Just a m-m-minute!"

Alphys stuttering voice called out from within, and Papyrus could hear a good deal of shuffling around. She was probably trying to tidy up her room a little. Girls seemed to like to do that when someone knocked on their bedroom doors. He waited patiently, however, rocking back and forth slightly on his socked, bony feet. His hands were clenching each other in front of him, making his worry very apparent. A moment or so later, Alphys opened her door.

She was dressed in a cream colored nightgown, the kind that Papyrus often saw women wear in those old, black and white human movies, but that humans seemed to rarely wear anymore. It suited Alphys though, somehow, and she blushed at being seen in it.

"P-Papyrus? Is th-there something I c-can do for y-you?"

The tall skeleton twisted the bones on his fingers nervously. "YES. I MEAN...MAY I TALK TO YOU FOR A MINUTE? IT'S...IT'S ABOUT SANS."

Alphys' eyes widened and she invited him in a once. Papyrus walked past her, taking in the room as he entered. Alphys was a very private person, and usually didn't let people into her room. The walls were lined with anime posters, and various other nerdy trinkets and knickknacks lined the shelves. She was one of the few of them that had a television in her room; not one that got any channels, just working enough so she could watch shows on the old video cassette tapes. Another thing humans hardly used anymore.

Not knowing exactly where to go, Papyrus came to a halt in the center of the room, taking back up his anxious stance while Alphys carefully shut the door than faced him.

"I-Is something wrong?" she asked, concerned. "Is S-Sans having trouble s-sleeping. B-Because if he i-is, I h-h-have some m-medi-" She trailed off when Papyrus began pacing, shaking his head as he did so.

"NO. NO, IT IS NOT THAT."

He seemed very distressed. Alphys carefully made her way over to her bed. The sheet was already pulled back, since she had just been about to crawl into bed, but now she merely sat down on its edge, hoping that the action would somehow make Papyrus more at ease. It worked. After a slight hesitation, the skeleton came to sit beside her.

Papyrus stared down at his hands, suddenly finding them terribly fascinating. He wanted to tell Alphys so badly what his concerns were, but somehow he felt as though he was doing so behind his brother's back. It was very...personal information, about his brother's past, and if there was one thing that Papyrus knew, it was that Sans very rarely shared either one. But Sans didn't even remember this part of his past, and it was important. Surely, Sans would forgive him. Taking a deep breath, Papyrus began, still at a little bit at a loss as to how to approach the subject.

"I AM VERY WORRIED ABOUT SANS," he started, still looking at his hands. "I MEAN, I'M ALWAYS WORRIED ABOUT HIM, BUT AFTER TONIGHT, I'M EVEN MORE WORRIED."

Alphys nodded slowly, watching his face searchingly. "W-We all are. B-But he s-seems alright now."

Papyrus shrunk in on himself a bit. "YES..." and his answer was uncertain. ''YES, BUT THERE IS STILL SOMETHING I THINK YOU SHOULD KNOW. SOMETHING THAT...REMINDS ME OF THIS. OF WHAT HAPPENED TONIGHT."

"O-Oh?" Alphys tried not to let her furthering anxiety show. "W-What is it?"

This was it. "WHEN SANS AND I WERE LITTLE, BEFORE WE LIVED IN SNOWDIN...SANS WAS VERY...SICK.'' He supposed that was what he had been. Sick. Weak. Frail. Very frail.

Alphys concern was growing. "W-What kind of sick?" she pressed hesitantly, almost like she was afraid to know.

"HE WAS VERY...VERY WEAK...ALL THE TIME. HIS SOUL USED TO...DO WEIRD THINGS. IT MADE HIM VERY SICK. H-HE COULDN'T EVEN GET OUT OF BED AND STAND SOME DAYS." The memory pained Papyrus. ''MANY HEALERS DID THEIR BEST TO FIGURE OUT WHAT WAS WRONG...BUT NONE OF THEM COULD. BUT THEN...THEN SOMEONE CAME...AND FIXED HIM...SOMEHOW..." Papyrus' voice had grown confused. "I CAN'T SEEM TO REMEMBER WHO IT WAS AND HOW THEY HEALED HIM, BUT IT WAS ALWAYS MY...MY B-BIGGEST FEAR...THAT...THAT TERRIBLE SICKNESS M-MIGHT COME BACK..."

"Th-That sounds...very s-serious..." Alphys had fixed her eyes on the floor in thought, but her eyes returned to her friend when she felt the light vibrations of Papyrus' shaking traveling through their sitting place. Compassion and sympathy overwhelming her, Alphys reached out a hesitant hand, laying it very gently on the skeleton's shoulder. "I-I'm so s-sorry. That m-must have b-been very f-frightening for you, b-being so y-young..."

Papyrus nodded with a whimper, fighting back a wave of emotion. He hadn't realized how strongly those memories still hurt. He hadn't realized they had hurt at all. But now, a lot of that old fear was coming back, and it was far stronger than it had ever been for him as a child. Maybe because then he hadn't understood the full consequences of illness. But now, he did.

"I-IT WAS,'' he choked out, hands clenched in his lap. "AND WHAT HAPPENED TONIGHT...REMINDED ME OF IT.''

"Y-You think maybe that's what i-it was?"

"I...I D-DON'T KNOW..." Papyrus' hands flew up to grip his skull, his voice filled with hopelessness. "HE SEEMS FINE, AND THE SYMPTOMS ARE NOT THE SAME AT ALL...BUT...BUT I CAN'T SHAKE THIS FEELING THAT IT'S ALL CONNECTED. THAT IT'S ALL SO TERRIBLY WRONG."

They both fell silent, staring in two different places; Alphys back at the floor, though her hand stayed on her friend's shoulder, and Papyrus again at his hands. The lizard-like monster was having a very hard time relating to the situation, or knowing what to do. She herself had never had any siblings, and she wasn't one to talk people through such emotional circumstances. She had always been one to give such things a wide birth, happy in her own little world of science, where everything made sense to her.

But, for Papyrus, she'd gladly make an exception.

"I-I know y-you're worried a-about him," she began slowly. "A-And it m-must be very h-h-hard, but Sans is s-stronger than h-he used to be...And y-you said so y-yourself, the s-symptoms aren't th-the same." She patted his bony arm. "I c-can't say for s-sure if h-he's completely alright...but I-I can a-assure you th-that if something is wrong, I w-will do e-everything I c-can to h-help him." And with no stutter in her voice whatsoever, she added, "I promise."

Papyrus looked over at her, an unreadable expression on his face that slowly morphed into a weak smile. With a dry chuckle, he scrubbed a hand over his left eye socket, like he was wiping away a tear, even though Alphys didn't see one.

"R-REALLY?"

Alphys nodded, not trusting herself to speak without crying. She let out a squeak as she suddenly found herself wrapped up in a firm, skeletal hug. Papyrus was still shaking, but his voice was filled with gratitude.

"...TH-THANK YOU. THANK Y-YOU, MY FRIEND..."

Alphys returned the embrace, gently. She was glad she had shut the door. Someone catching them like this might have been embarrassing. She gave Papyrus a final pat as they separated. "E-Everything will b-be alright. A-After all, Sans has g-got the g-greatest brother in the w-world to look a-after him. R-Right?"

Papyrus nodded with a relieved laugh. He scrubbed at his eye sockets one final time as he got up and shuffled slowly for the door. "T-THANKS. I FEEL A LOT BETTER."

Alphys smiled. "A-Any time."

"...AND ALPHYS?"

"Y-Yes?"

''PLEASE, DON'T TELL SANS I TOLD YOU ABOUT...HIM WHEN HE WAS LITTLE.''

The lizard-like monster frowned slightly. She didn't like keeping secrets, they only led to trouble. She had learned that from her own experience. "A-Are you afraid h-he'll be mad?"

Papyrus hesitated by the door, hand on the knob. "...YES. AND NO..." He seemed torn, like he had when he first came in. Finally, he gave in to whatever he had been mentally fighting over. ''HE DOESN'T REMEMBER IT."

Alphys felt her stomach sink with a strange feeling. "D-Doesn't remember w-what?"

"ANYTHING, ALPHYS. NOTHING BEFORE THE RESETS.''

Papyrus took in her surprised expression, before saying a nervous goodnight and slipping out of her room. Alphys remained seated, staring at the closed door with an expression of concern. How could Sans not remember such a large portion of his life? To lose something like that was...disturbing. As if the evening's events hadn't been worrying enough. But she had meant what she had said. She _would_ help Sans in any way she could.

They all would.

With a sigh, the yellow monster sighed heavily, dragging her feet up onto the bed. She shuffled beneath the covers and reached to turn off the table lamp. She hoped she'd be able to sleep now, after so much emotion and drama.

Turns out she could.

Within three minutes she was snoring softly.

* * *

Sans did not fall asleep.

He couldn't, not after all that had happened.

While the others had made sure he was as well as he could possibly be, Papyrus even going as far as to tuck him in, Sans still felt as though falling asleep would be a mistake. When his brother had come in later to check on him, Sans had pretended to be asleep. He felt terrible about it, but it was the only way he knew he'd be able to be alone, and know that he had at least eased his brother's worry to some extent.

Sans sighed, staring up at the ceiling. The nightmares were really starting to get to him, and not just because they were becoming more frequent. He could handle Chara-filled dreams; he really could. They weren't fun, and he hated them, sure; but these new elements were...more than he could face right now.

Afraid to fall asleep, and starting to feel a little hungry after not having eaten nearly all day, the skeleton carefully eased himself up and made his way quietly through the house and down into the kitchen. He had remembered to put on his jacket and slippers this time, more for comfort than anything else. Toriel had washed and dried his old blue one, for which he was extremely grateful. Something about it felt like a shield that surrounded him. It was familiar, and he loved the familiar.

Opening the fridge and enjoying the cool mist that shone in the refrigerator light, he stood that way for a moment, enjoying the relief from the summer heat. It was one of those hot, stifling nights, and Redemption didn't have any air conditioning. Well, it _had_ , but Papyrus had accidentally knocked it out a window while playing a game of tag with Frisk several weeks back.

Toriel had banned indoor running after that.

The thought of Toriel jolted Sans back to the present, reminding him that Toriel would not approve of him keeping the fridge door open so long. Searching the shelves, he soon located some of the leftovers from supper that had been carefully placed in plastic containers. There wasn't any steak left, which wasn't a surprise, but there was a mix of mashed potato and peas. That would be fine.

Not wanting to wake those sleeping upstairs, and it being too warm to eat anything hot, Sans opted to eat the potato cold. He knew he could, and probably should, take his jacket off, even as he sat down at the table, sweltering from the heat; but again he couldn't bring himself to take it off. He needed it there right now. He could handle sweating a little if it meant at least feeling somewhat safe.

He sat for some time, eating slowly and listening to the hum of crickets and other summertime bugs outside the house. It was a sound he still noticed a lot. Humans hardly ever noticed it, even Frisk, having grown up with it. But the monsters found the sound distinctly focused, almost like some odd string of music, and Sans was no exception.

While he sat, he let his mind wander. Sadly, it was nothing pleasant.

Why had the name Gaster caused him to suddenly lose it like that? It was really bothering him. He couldn't remember the name, couldn't even really connect it to anything other than a sense of dread that bloomed in his chest whenever he thought of it. He was positive he had never heard the name, and yet it seemed familiar. But that didn't make any sense! How could he know something and yet not know something at the same time?! He stopped eating and ran a hand down the front of his skull, no longer hungry.

Why couldn't his life get any easier?


	5. Not So Bad

He did fall asleep eventually, of course.

It was a reckless slumber, but at least it wasn't infested with dreams of darkness and fear. Even Chara failed to make an appearance for once. Not that his sleep was particularly refreshing. It was just a formless, empty void in which he was adrift, unaware of any particular thought or notion. There were no terrors, or grief to be faced; just fitful sleep that was shallow only because he refused his mind and body to slip any further than that. There were no nightmares, because he did not allow himself to sleep heavily enough to suffer them.

Sans was awoken by a pleasant smell tickling his nasal cavity. It was a warm, hazy, cooking smell; the smell of breakfast, even though he didn't realize it at first. Slowly, the aroma coaxed him awake, his eye sockets fluttering open slowly, greeted by the golden rays shifting through the kitchen window curtains to fall against his folded arms on the table. The light coming through the lace caused intricate orange patters across the hazel-brown wood.

Sans was stiff, his spine crackling in protest as he groggily sat up from his slouched position. That was another mystery of skeleton monsters. How could they be stiff without muscles? Not that it mattered; the fact still remained. He must have settled against the table as some point, planting his face in his arms before drifting off, which he did not remember doing. With a wince, Sans straightened, trying to stretch a bit of feeling back into his body.

"It is about time you woke up," a voice chuckled gently, filled with good humor and gentle teasing.

Sans looked to his right with a start, vision still a little blurred from sleep, but the unmistakable silhouette of Toriel was easy enough to make out. He gave her a wry smile. "Guess I was _bone_ tired."

She chuckled, despite the fact that he had used that same joke so many times before. "You slept right on through breakfast. The others already ate and have gone off to attend to other matters. We thought it best to let you sleep."

"Even, Pap?"

"Yes, even Papyrus." Toriel's demeanor sobered a little. "He is very worried over what happened yesterday, you know."

"Yeah. I know." Sans shifted in his seat, glancing at the bandages still wrapped securely around his injured hands. They didn't hurt as bad as yesterday, Toriel's healing magic having fixed a good deal of the damage, but that didn't mean they felt completely back to normal. Something about it gave him the chills though, and it was all he could do to keep his calm in Toriel's presence. He felt ashamed that he had caused the others to worry so much, and would have liked more than anything to shift the focus off of him and on to something else; he didn't like all the attention. He was perfectly fine with being that quiet individual in the room that everyone liked, but often forgot. He could settle for that, not that that was ever really the case. But next to Papyrus, Sans was by far the quieter brother.

Toriel studied his expression carefully, before turning back to the stove as she worked at it. "I stayed behind to cook you something for your breakfast, since I believed you would awaken fairly soon. Which you did."

He opened his mouth to say something, but she quickly cut him off.

"And do not dare to say you are not hungry, Sans. You have eaten nothing since yesterday's lunch. You have to eat, dear. And those few bites of cold mashed potato do not count."

There it was. Toriel's motherly, no-nonsense tone. There would be no backing out gracefully from this. She was determined that he eat, and that was what was going to happen, Sans knew. He really wasn't hungry, though he wasn't feeling as sick as he had the night before. He supposed he'd be able to eat a little; enough to satisfy Toriel at least.

He settled back against the kitchen chair that he had slept in, giving a sigh and a nod of defeat. Toriel's smile in response was a mix of triumph and sad understanding. She almost commented on how bad for one's posture it was to sleep sitting at a kitchen table, but refrained. Sans had been through a lot lately. Sans had been through a lot, period. If he had felt more comfortable sleeping in the kitchen as opposed to his soft, warm bed, he must have had a reason. And that reason, she guessed, was more nightmares.

"What you got there, Tori?" Sans' voice drifted to her at her back, tinged with feigned curiosity. It hurt to know that he still felt he had to hide his feelings. They had been on the Surface for just over a year now, and he had opened up to them only once, and that he really hadn't been able to help. One has little choice in letting suppressed emotions show within the midst of a breakdown of any sort. And Sans had broken down, eventually. Even to that day, Toriel was at a loss as to how someone so small could keep so much locked up inside themselves for so long.

The goat-like woman smiled. "Eggs and bacon. Scrambled, like you like them."

The monsters had grown very accustom to human food. Few stores actually sold anything most monsters were more used to, and so adapting had been necessary. Not that it was that much of a deal, monster meals were not all that different from those of humans. Many were already used to burgers, spaghetti, oatmeal, and on and on; though the ingredients were a little different. _Chicken_ eggs had been a new discovery for them, as had bacon; both of which had not existed in the Underground.

Toriel tipped the skillet, dumping the yellow eggs onto a plate, adding a few strips of bacon before setting it on the table in front of Sans. She sat down in the chair across from him with a cup of tea, sipping it slowly as she watched him pointedly.

Sans gazed down at the meal with mixed feelings. He liked scrambled eggs, surely, and bacon was quite a treat, but he _really_ wasn't all that hungry. But, with Toriel watching, he knew he had to at least eat a little. Taking up his fork, the skeleton slowly dug into the offered food. Toriel seemed to relax slightly as he took the first bite.

"How are you feeling this morning?"

Sans gave a one shouldered shrug. "Fine. Where is everyone?" He wanted to keep the conversation away from himself. Thankfully, Toriel seemed to pick up on his wish and complied.

"They are around. I believe that Alphys and Undyne are down in the lab, Asgore has gone out for a walk in the fields, and I believe that Frisk and Papyrus are out front, playing catch with a ball they found in the basement. They had too much energy for staying inside."

Sans chuckled. "That's right. I forgot today was Sunday. Frisk doesn't have school."

"That is correct. And I already corrected all the papers for my summer classes." Toriel smiled contentedly. "I might do a little cleaning today though. Tidy up the attic."

Sans frowned, taking another bite of eggs, mostly out of habit. "Tidy up the attic? Come on, Tori, it's a nice day. You should relax." He thought for a moment, cocking his head ever so slightly. "Why don't you and Asgore do something together?" She gave him a look. "Well, why not? Both of you have been working like crazy. You haven't spent much time together. It would be nice."

"It _would_ be," Toriel responded with a sigh. "But I doubt that would work. There are seven individuals living in this house, and I have to feed them, and clean up after them, and-"

"What if I got them all out of here for ya?" Sans spoke quickly, cutting her off before her list of chores brought her too far down. "I could see if they all want to go for a hike up Mount Ebott; we haven't done that in a while. That way you and Asgore can have the morning all to yourselves."

Toriel looked like she was actually considering it, when she looked sharply at him with a frown. "You want to climb a mountain after what happened to you last night? Sans, Alphys told you to take it _easy_." She noticed that Sans had stopped eating. It was obvious he wasn't going to eat any more.

"I can hitch a ride on Papyrus," Sans assured, getting up from the table and taking his plate to the counter. He hated to waste food, especially since it was Toriel's. There was still a good deal of egg and both strips of bacon left. Bending down, he took out the plastic wrap from the cupboard under the sink and wrapped a strip over and around the plate. "I'll be careful, Tori. Come on, you know you and Asgore deserve some time alone. You guys have done so much for us."

Toriel stood as well, walking over to join him at the counter, placing her now empty cup down in the sink. She looked down at him, as though trying to decide whether she really did want to take up his offer. After a moment, she smiled. "Alright. If they are willing to go, and Asgore is fine with it, then I think that would be a very nice idea."

"Great!" Sans tossed his wrapped plate onto a semi-empty shelve in the fridge, shutting the door with an energetic shove. "I'll go see who wants to go." He really had changed a lot since coming to the Surface. He never had this much enthusiasm in the days Underground. Of course, he still paled in comparison to Papyrus' nearly manic passion for life.

"Check with Asgore first," Toriel called after him, starting to rinse out her cup.

Sans nodded as he headed for the door. "Will do."

The short skeleton almost ran into the goat-like male as he exited the house, saving him the trouble of walking all the way out into the fields. Asgore was coming in, and Sans was rushing out, and the two collided, Asgore's weight and bulk nearly sending the skeleton reeling. Thankfully, the ex-king was quick. He reached out as Sans toppled, managing to catch the smaller monster's wrist and help him regain his balance unharmed.

"Oh, dear! I am so sorry, Sans! Are you quite alright?" Sans was chuckling, and Asgore knew there was a pun coming even before it was started.

"Asgore, imagining _running_ _into_ _you_ here."

The large monster rolled his eyes with a grin of his own. Though he didn't appreciate the skeleton's jokes as much as Frisk and Toriel, he was far more tolerant of them then Papyrus or Undyne. But Asgore truly was concerned. After the events of the night before, he was worried as to whether he had hurt his friend.

"Are you sure you are unharmed?"

Sans grinned up at him, a far cry from the frightened face that had sat in Alphys lab only a short time ago. He was pretty sure he'd be haunted for quite some time by the feeling of having to hold his friend down. But, now, Sans seemed perfectly fine, though beneath the cheer Asgore still detected a fair amount of listlessness.

"I'm just fine," Sans answered seriously, for once. "I was just about to come find you. How'd you like to spend the day, just you and Toriel?"

Asgore looked startled, and then he blushed in a flustered manner. "I-ah-I-I would like that very much. It has been quite some time since we have had time together."

Sans grinned. "Great, and I'll take the others up the mountain with Papyrus for a picnic or something."

"Oh." Asgore instantly looked concerned. "Do you really think that is wise?"

"I'll ride on Papyrus' back," Sans quickly supplied. Was everyone he talked to today going to worry over his health? Probably. "He's used to it by now, and I'm sure, under the circumstances, he won't mind."

Asgore nodded slowly, as though still slightly hesitant. "Very well. If you are sure."

"I'm sure." Sans started heading back in, toward the basement stairs. "I'll go check in with Alphys and Undyne. Toriel's in the kitchen, if you're wondering."

And he was pretty sure Asgore was.

* * *

Sans emerged from the basement a short time later, having convinced Undyne and Alphys to join them fairly easily. The only ones left to check with was Frisk and Papyrus, and there was really no doubt in Sans' mind as to what their answer would be.

The skeleton rounded the corner of the outside of the house, pausing when he came across his brother and friend playing, just as Toriel had said they were. They were throwing a softball back and forth, and were getting quite good at it. Toriel had expressed the possibility of Frisk joining a softball team in Ebott City, and Papyrus had taken it upon himself to be her coach until they found a team she could participate with. The tall skeleton was a patient teacher, and was actually very good at both catching and throwing. Frisk looked very happy.

Sans gave a chuckle at their antics, which caught Frisk's attention. Unfortunately, the child looked back at him over her shoulder, missing the fact that Papyrus had already tossed the ball and that the object was now flying for her head. The ball bounced off of her forehead before anything could be done, producing a dull thud sound and down Frisk went on her rear, looking rather stunned.

"FRISK! OH NO! I AM SO SORRY! I AM SO, _SO_ SORRY!" Papyrus was kneeling beside her in an instant, hands flitting around her, trying to assess the damage he had done. He looked absolutely stricken, like the day he had accidentally drowned an entire ant colony while watering the garden.

Sans too looked concerned, ambling over at a slightly more hurried pace than normal, though he really wasn't too worried. Frisk was hardier than most people gave her credit for. He knew that better than anyone. He had fought her in the Judgment Hall more times than he could count, and her strength had always surprised him.

"I'm fine, I'm okay," Frisk was saying, albeit a little dizzily. She had a hand held to her forehead and when she removed it a large, purple bruise became visible. Papyrus freaked.

"I'VE INJURED THE HUMAN!"

"Whoa. Whoa. Easy, Pap." Sans crouched down in front of Frisk, carefully reaching out a hand to brush a gentle finger against the 'injury'. Frisk flinched slightly, but she was smiling at him, seeming to be trying to get him to find the amusement in the situation. It wasn't hard to do. "She's fine, Pap. Look, she's laughing."

Papyrus stopped his panicking to gaze down into the child's twinkling eyes. His shoulders relaxed at the sound of her giggling and he sat back on his heels, relieved. "I THOUGHT I'D DAMAGED HER," he finished, a little weakly.

"Nah," Sans drawled, taking Frisk's hand and pulling her to her feet. "Our kid's pretty tough. Aren't ya, kid?" He startled when she suddenly moved to wrap him in a firm hug, pressed up hard against his ribs even through the fabric of his jacket.

"Are you feeling better today?" she asked, her voice muffled by the material. It was such a sudden change in conversation, and focus, that for a moment Sans couldn't quite answer.

"Y-Yeah," he managed, finally returning the gesture. "Yeah, I'm fine, kid. Just great. In fact," and she separated from him so she could see his face. "I was wondering if you two would like to climb Mount Ebott today." It was an activity that they did quite often, or usually quite often. Lately, they had neglected to do so, and Sans felt it was time to try and get back into the routine. He had always loved the view from up there. "I already asked Undyne and Alphys to come. Asgore and Toriel deserve some time to themselves."

That was certainly true. They were apart all week long, what with Toriel working as a teacher and Asgore being the first ranking monster in the Negotiations. Though no longer king, he was certainly still their leader, whatever title he might hold. The two goat-like monsters had had very little time together, and Sunday was one of the few days they were actually both home. But even then it was hard for them to be alone, what with a household of people to live with and a child to look after. Sans figured it would be a nice treat for the two, and a pleasant distraction for him. After the last few nights, he was ready to just focus on the lighter aspects of his life.

Frisk and Papyrus took to the idea at once, and practically dragged Sans back into the house to pack lunches for them all. Toriel was upset about the bruise, not angry, just concerned; to which Papyrus readily confessed that it was his fault. Frisk was given a Band-Aid, which she reluctantly placed over the 'wound', promising herself that she would take the ridiculous thing off in the morning before going to school.

Undyne came into the kitchen to 'help' pack the picnic basket, which ended up being more of a hindrance than any real assistance. She kept throwing stuff in that was either too gross or too inappropriate for a picnic lunch, and Sans spent most of his time silently fishing out the objects he deemed either of the two. Finally, they were set with five sandwiches, a thermos of lemonade, an assortment of chips, leftover pie, and a few oddities that Undyne had absolutely _insisted_ on. Toriel, gave them all a last minute lecture on being careful, and then waved with Asgore on the porch, until the group was far across the far side of the field, disappearing into the forest.

It was nice living within hiking distance of Mount Ebott, especially since many of the monsters still considered it their old home. Seeing it in the distance always supplied them with a sense that the world they had grown up in was not totally lost, simply exchanged for something better.

The going wasn't too difficult at first, but the work really started once they met the mountain's base, as Ebott was one of the tallest mountains in the area. The forest ended abruptly into a mix of tall grasses and craggy rocks; not cliff-like, but certainly steep. It took a moment for them to find the path they had created over the last few months, their feet having trampled down the grass and brush. Once they found it, the climb got easier.

Undyne, as always, treated it all like some sort of crazy training exercise. She yelled, and marched, and goaded them on, reminding Sans of the reason he didn't usually invite her on these trips. But no one really minded. Alphys kept stopping, interested in the various fauna and flora that kept catching her eye. This was actually the first time she had joined them on a hike up the mountain since the Barrier had been broken, and she looked like she was enjoying herself, though Undyne gave her very little time to stop for any given length of time.

By the time they reached the summit the sun was already far above them, indicating noon. The grassy patch on the mountainside was a welcome sight for the adventurers, and with a few final steps they were there, helping to set up the blanket and food. Papyrus, who had carried the basket and Sans, carefully set down both. He was quite proud of his brother, seeing as Sans had made it almost a fifth of the way up by himself. He probably could have gone further, but Alphys reminded them all that Sans was supposed to be taking it easy, and Papyrus had happily offered his brother a ride.

Together they all got their meal ready, kicking off shoes into the grass around the blanket and then climbing on, grabbing plates and opening containers and bags. Sans reclined against the soft fabric of the blanket, hands behind his skull as he gazed up at the blue, sky. There wasn't much for clouds today, and if any storm did happen to come along they'd have plenty of warning in advance. On top of Ebott one could see for miles. Miles of miles. The world was just so darn big, it never ceased to amaze Sans with its enormity. After living inside the mountain for so long, one got used to the idea that your world only consisted of a limited perimeter. But out here, it was endless. And the sky, which still fascinated Sans, especially at night, was so big even the humans had no idea how far it stretched.

Sans felt a pat on his leg and sat up, finding Frisk sitting before him with a sandwich held out for him. He wasn't particularly hungry again, but Frisk seemed determined to make sure he ate, and so he took it without question or complaint. It was a cheese and ham, though he had made sure that there was a fair amount of ketchup in-between the bread, though not enough to make it ooze from the sides. He took a small bite, giving the kid a smile that finally convinced her that he was being compliant.

Conversation was always a major entertainment for both Frisk and Sans, especially when said conversation consisted of Papyrus, Undyne, and Alphys. The two girls had managed to get Papyrus sucked into some of their favorite anime, and to Sans' slight annoyance Pap had taken to it almost immediately. Not as strongly as he had to those old, black and white films, but certainly more than Sans thought was healthy. He, personally, thought anime was kind of disturbing, what with the humans with abnormally thin limbs and huge eyes. Not to mention that many of the series contained various takes on monsters, none of which were even remotely accurate. But it was good to listen to his brother having so much fun, and so when the anime chatter began Sans simply smiled and listened, waiting for his mind to wander as it often did.

Though he tried to keep it from wandering too far.

Frisk had finished eating and had wandered a short distance away to pick daisies. Or maybe they were black-eyed susans? No, daisies; they were white with yellow centers. She was making them into chains, plopping a healthy number in a band around her head, quickly making up several bracelets and a ring. She was covered in them, and still she collected more. Sans chuckled. He set down his sandwich back in the basket, standing to his feet. The other three monsters were too engaged in their conversation to notice, and Sans took the opportunity to pick a few flowers himself. Not for any reason, other than to hand them to Frisk and watch her eyes light up happily.

He followed her, and their flower hunt soon turned into a search for pretty stones. There was a lot of quartz, of various colors, and Frisk filled her pockets until they were bulging, then started slipping them into Sans' own. He let her, all the while enjoying the warm sunlight as the child talked cheerily.

"-and that's why I only collect the shiny ones, see?" the child continued, and Sans realized he must have missed something while he was deep in thought. He decided to give as neutral an answer as he could think of.

"That makes sense."

That seemed to be the right answer, and so Frisk moved on, and this time Sans made sure he was paying attention.

"I made a new friend in school last week, she's very nice, but she's shy."

Sans chuckled. "You used to be pretty shy too, remember? At the...beginning." His tone quickly lost a little of its enthusiasm.

The other monsters had no idea how much Frisk had changed since the beginning of the resets. How much she had changed after Chara. But he couldn't say it was a particularly bad change, she was just far more outspoken and determined than she had been back at the start. In fact, looking at the child now, he could see a little bit of all of them in her. She had Toriel's tender-heartedness, Undyne's spunk, Alphys care, Asgore's gentleness, Papyrus' enthusiasm for fun and puzzles, and his...his acute awareness of the world, as well as his thoughtfulness. In a way, Frisk was a mix of them all, with thankfully no trace of Chara to be seen. That thought cheered the skeleton almost as quickly as his sentence had depressed him. He was getting better at that; pulling himself out of that dark pit in his mind that he had once lived in. Had once been trapped in.

"But look at you now," he grinned, gesturing to her flower covered, rock bulging appearance. "You've grown," he rocked on the balls of his feet, hands crawling back into his pockets, at least as far as they could with the rocks blocking the way. "In more ways than one."

Frisk smiled, but it wasn't the kind of smile he had been expecting. It was almost a sad, regretful smile, like when a child does something and all a mother can do is shake their head. It was an odd feeling, as though Frisk was suddenly the older, more experienced individual of the two of them. She was far more mature than her years presented. After all, how could she not be; after everything she had been through, and everything she had been forced to do.

"You've changed too," she said softly, carefully; like she didn't want to hurt him. "You've got something back you lost. You found hope."

Yup. She really did have his acute awareness. She was the only one he knew who could read him like a book. Sans fidgeted, his hands trying to dig further into his pockets despite the rocks. He almost winced when a sharp edged stone pushed against one of the scratches beneath the bandages on his hands. He'd almost forgotten about those.

"We've all changed," he summed up, a little hastily. "Every one of us. And I'm glad. I didn't really like what we were before." He gazed out over the landscape stretching out below them. It was so green, and lush, and beautiful. Sans remained still and quiet, and Frisk wondered if he was going to continue. When he didn't, she spoke up hesitantly.

"What were we before?"

Sans seemed to startle. He was doing that a lot lately, and Frisk wasn't sure whether it was worth worrying over or not. He blinked, turning back to face her, before he gave a loud sigh and a grin that was truly genuine. "Messed up. Now, come on, or Pap, Undyne, and Alph'll eat all that leftover pie without us."

Just like that he was back to normal. Just like that the eternal mask was back in place. It was hard to tell if it was real or not, but he seemed happy. He felt happy, when he took her hand and started back the way they had come, going on about a pie Papyrus had once made in Snowdin; she could sense it was real. But he was still healing from...everything. They all were, but him especially. Frisk understood, and decided to accept his answer and not push any further.

He was happy on the outside, and Frisk believed it was slowly seeping inward. True happiness was coming, and the child hoped she could help it along any way she could.

* * *

It was late afternoon when they finally crossed the field back to Redemption. Frisk was still covered in flowers and loaded down by rocks, though she had happily accepted a ride on Undyne's shoulders. Papyrus was too occupied with carrying Sans in a similar fashion to volunteer himself.

As they neared the old, dirt, round-about driveway, Sans suddenly fell quiet right in the middle of a sentence. He had been explaining something he had read about astronomy, and when his voice all at once faded out the others looked to him worriedly. He was gazing fixedly past Papyrus' head, toward the farmhouse, a frown of confusion on his face.

"Looks like we've got company..."

The others followed his line of sight, realizing that he was right. A car, dark and well-polished, sat in the driveway beside their own. It looked so new and expensive next to their older, second-hand vehicle. Papyrus had had one like it for a while, when they had first come to the Surface, but he had long since sold it to help pay for the mortgage on Redemption. He had said that being together with their little 'family' was more important to him than driving around looking cool. It was a sacrifice that had touched all of them very deeply.

Alphys' eyes widened at the sight of the black car. "O-Oh, dear! That's P-Professor Hornbern's! I-I didn't know he w-was planning t-to stop by!" She took off at a faster pace, not exactly a run, but certainly far more hurried than usual for her. The others exchanged glances, before following at an equally hurried gait.

As they neared the porch, they could see Asgore and Toriel, seated and talking with a tall figure, obviously human, who was standing in the shadows. Alphys, as soon as she was within range, began muttering apologies like the world would crumble to dust if she didn't.

"P-Professor H-Hornbern! I-I'm so s-s-sorry! I d-didn't know you w-were going to c-come by!"

As the rest of the group made it to the porch behind Alphys the man gave a good-natured laugh. "Now, now, friend; don't get all worked up. I only stopped by on a whim. I thought you'd like to hear the latest on the plans for the next meeting, seeing as the outage messed that all up. I thought of calling you, but it was such a lovely day, I decided to come here in person." He gazed out at the fields surrounding the house with an appreciative nod. "I had heard it was pleasant out here, but I'd never been. I see it is just as beautiful as you described."

The human male was very tall indeed for his kind; easily six foot, maybe a little more. He was very thin, and the dark suit, pants, and tie that he wore only made that more apparent. He stood with his hands behind his back, bouncing on the balls of his feet. His eyes and hair were dark in color too, and the shade, going by both his clothes and automobile, seemed to be a theme with him. His gaze was merry, almost twinkling from behind two, piercing eyes. It spoke of a clever mind, one that was very fitting of his scientific profession.

"I hope it was alright," he spoke again quickly, turning to Toriel almost apologetically. "I didn't even call to say I was coming."

"Oh, no," Toriel assured him with a smile. "That is quite alright. We don't get many visitors out this way, and it is Sunday. We were not doing anything of importance." Though she did send Asgore a slightly exasperated look that indicated that she really would have preferred not to have company. But, forever the hostess, she offered for the professor to stay for dinner. He accepted gratefully, but only after being reassured that he wasn't intruding in any way.

"It's been a long time since I had a home cooked meal." He smiled at Asgore as Toriel left to start on supper immediately. "And I know for certain that I have never eaten a meal prepared by a monster."

He gave a pleasant laugh, his gaze shifting to the others, who were still standing by the porch. His eyes lit up when he saw the human child, just as Undyne pulled her down off of her shoulders and placed Frisk down on the ground.

"You must be Frisk," Hornbern inquired, crouching down to better match the child's height. "We've all got a lot to thank you for little miss. Without your courage and determination, the Negotiations between humans and monsters would never have become a possibility."

Frisk blushed, muttering a quiet thank you in reply.

Asgore rose from his chair, motioning with a hand for the others to come forward. "You know Doctor Alphys well enough, but let me introduce you to the rest of our boarders. This is Undyne, who is currently working with the Ebott police in keeping peace on the streets."

Undyne roughly clapped a hand into Hornbern's own, giving it a hardy shake. "Glad to finally meet one of you science geeks from where Alphys and Asgore works," was her greeting, which prompted a small squeak of distress from Alphys herself. But, despite the completely informal manner on the fish-like monster's part, Professor Hornbern again released a hearty laugh, returning the handshake almost just as roughly.

"Nice to meet you."

"And these two are Sans and Papyrus." Asgore quickly made way for Papyrus' enthusiastic greeting, which consisted of the skeleton's loud voice and an energetic shaking of the human male's hand.

"GREETINGS, HUMAN! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS! IT IS ALWAYS A PLEASURE TO MEET A FRIEND OF ONE OF OUR FRIENDS!"

"Yes, indeed!" Hornbern replied, finally getting his arm back, trying not to massage it in company. "It is certainly a pleasure to make the acquaintance of those responsible for the breaking of the Barrier."

"YES, WELL, FRISK HELPED," Papyrus smirked, to which Frisk sent him a teasing pout.

Hornbern turned his attention to the smaller, far shorter skeleton, one brow raised. "I suppose that makes you Sans."

The skeleton shrugged with a grin. "In the _flesh_...or...not."

"SANS, DON'T YOU DARE USE ANY OF YOUR TERRIBLE PUNS WHILE WE HAVE COMPANY!" Papyrus wailed.

"Aw, come on, Pap, you know I can't help it. When it comes to puns-"

"DON'T!"

"- I'm more than _carpal_ able."

"AGH!"

Hornbern laughed again, his piercing eyes scrunching up in amusement. "That was a bit of a stretch, don't you think?"

Sans grinned all the more, finding that he liked this human rather well, compared to many he had met. "Maybe, but it was worth it to see him _skull-_ k."

"NO! DO NOT ENCOURAGE HIM!" Papyrus declared, stomping his foot upon the wooden boards of the porch repeatedly. "STOP IT! UGH, I'M GOING INSIDE TO HELP MAKE YOU ALL FOOD!" With that, Papyrus pushed through the front door, still muttering loudly under his breath. Sans watched him go with a smirk, and then turned back to the man.

"He might not like jokes, but my bro's pretty cool. You'll get used to him."

"Ah," Hornbern observed, not seeming the least bit surprised. "You are brothers."

"Yep."

"Interesting."

Sans looked up rather quickly at that, the word striking as startlingly familiar, though he couldn't recall from what or where. He might have asked what the professor had meant by 'interesting', but by then the man had already turned back to Asgore and Alphys, discussing something related to the Negotiations. Deciding it was nothing, Sans shrugged, allowing Frisk to pull him out and around the side of the house to the garden.

He spent the remainder of the time before dinner helping the child arrange her rocks around its perimeter.

* * *

Ironically, Toriel opted to make pasta, much to Papyrus' joy, though the inhabitants of Redemption were all very glad that Toriel did most of the preparation. The sun was just starting to set when the call to supper was given, with Sans and Frisk coming in from the garden, hands covered in dirt. The two washed up, before joining the others in the kitchen for the late day meal.

Toriel had been a little embarrassed at first, seeing as, in order to fit them all around a single table, they had been forced to improvise. Bringing in a folding table from the basement storage, a piece of furniture left behind by the previous, human owners of the house, the monsters managed to line the chairs around the two, making 'one' table. Toriel apologized repeatedly for not having any better, but Hornbern said he had grown up in a family of nine, on a farm not all that unlike Redemption.

"My mother often had us eat outside or in the living room, just to save space," he smiled. "And if we had guests, that was the only option. Please, do not apologize. This makes me feel right at home."

The meal was a massive success. The noodles were soft and moist, the sauce was wet and seasoned, and the meatballs were so tender they almost fell apart in one's mouth. Everyone enjoyed it, and made sure to tell Toriel and Papyrus so. Hornbern, who was not like any of them would have expected a professor of science to be like, told stories of his early years in the field, something that Sans thoroughly enjoyed. The man was witty, kind-hearted, and genuinely funny. He had no qualms about sharing a meal with monsters, and that was a very refreshing change from the norm. It was easy to see why Professor Hornbern was heading the human side of the Negotiations.

Sans even graced the conversation with a few of his own stories; which was something he rarely did. They were funny stories, naturally, filled with puns that made Papyrus and Undyne groan, but Hornbern seemed quite entertained. The human laughed heartily at Sans' last joke, before falling silent a moment, as though gearing up to speak. Sans was surprised when the question was directed to him and his brother.

"You know, skeletons seem to be an extreme rarity among monsters. Even in my research, based off of the documents donated at the courtesy of Doctor Alphys here, I have barely found more than a handful of records. Is there a reason?" The table had grown incredibly quiet. Hornbern looked at each uneasy face, realizing he may have stepped out of line, and quickly began apologizing. "I am sorry, I did not mean to-"

"No, no," Asgore quickly interjected. "You said nothing wrong, it is simply...not something we had given much thought until now." He gave Sans and Papyrus a curious glance, one that indicated that he didn't know the answer any more than Hornbern did. Everyone else at the table carried a similar expression.

Sans' gaze had fallen to his plate, staring at the food which he had barely touched. He suddenly felt very much in the spotlight, even if he vaguely knew the others were questioning Papyrus as well. Sans was usually the one to answer stuff, but at the moment he was at a loss. It all came down to what he had told Papyrus a few nights ago; that he really didn't remember anything of his life before the resets, and that both frightened him, and frustrated him. Besides his brother, Sans had never seen another, living skeleton. He knew there must have been some, since the people in Snowdin had welcomed him and his brother without question. In fact, no one had ever questioned who or what they were in that way.

Until now.

Thankfully, for once, Papyrus knew a little more than he did.

"I DON'T KNOW. GUESS WE'RE A LITTLE MORE UNUSUAL," he smiled, not seeing the discomfort that phrase seemed to needle into everyone else. "I'VE HARDLY EVER SEEN ANOTHER SKELETON OTHER THAN MY BROTHER...THOUGH, I THINK I MIGHT HAVE SEEN ONE...A LONG TIME AGO..." He looked confused by his own words, falling silent rather quickly. That silence spread, and everyone at the table joined in on it.

After a moment, Toriel spoke up quickly, changing the subject. "I understand that there is a special case being brought before the Negotiations, of a Mister..." She paused, her eyes momentarily flitting over to Sans. The skeleton was looking down at his plate, picking at his food. She wasn't sure whether she should risk saying the name; but Sans had not reacted poorly to it since the night before. And it had been mentioned more than once since then. "Mister Gaster," she finished.

Hornbern swallowed his mouthful of dinner, giving a slight shake of his head. " _Doctor_ Gaster. Apparently, he was a scientist in the field of Soul Study and Experimentation in Magic. Rather a diverse field, if I understand monster science correctly." He received a nod of agreement from Alphys before continuing. "It is believed that he experimented on himself, leading to some rather unfortunate happenings."

"Yes, so Asgore and Alphys tell us," Toriel agreed. "Terrible."

"The case will be brought to the Negotiations tomorrow afternoon," Hornbern reported to Asgore and Alphys. "I knew you'd want to know. By then, the electrical power should be fully restored."

Asgore gave a sigh of relief. "Any idea of what caused it? The power outage, I mean?"

"Well, it could have been the storm. But since it was concentrated in the area of the Institute and that area only, I suspect that someone was making some sort of protest." Hornbern shook his head, almost guiltily for the deeds of his own race. "As you know, there are still many who are against the Negotiations. But I believe that they will not be willing to take it any further. The conference will commence tomorrow at twelve-thirty, as planned." He turned his eyes to the other occupants at the table. "All of you are welcome. We have an almost overwhelming number of human members, but, besides Asgore and Alphys here, there are very few representatives for the monsters. It might help if you came and listened in. Young Frisk as well."

Frisk instantly took to the idea. "Oh, please, may I come too?!"

Toriel gave a chuckle. "I suppose I could cancel classes for tomorrow. I am only teaching a few summer courses, and Frisk is doing so well, it would not hurt. I believe it would be alright."

Frisk gave a cheer.

"Wonderful," Hornbern nodded. "Frisk here is almost the very emblem of the peace we are trying to achieve. I am sure it will be a great encouragement to all involved."

"Well then," Toriel smiled, passing the butter to Papyrus. "It seems we have something to look forward to."


	6. Negotiations and Disasters

The Ebott City Science Institute was _huge_ , by any standards. Bigger than even the Town Hall, which really stretched just how important the humans thought the field of science was worth. It was immense. Not tall, as much of it was on a single floor, but it took up a lot of the city educational region, stretching a good two or three blocks. It was made of hard, gray granite, carved and taken from a quarry that no one could any longer remember where it was located. It had pillars, starting by the high, stone steps and going all the way around, though the only actual entrance was in the front. It was very old, but in amazing shape, a true miracle of architecture from the days of the War of Monsters and Humans; maybe even before.

Various college campuses had been erected around it, built with the newest styles and technology, but still the original structure took the scene, the crown jewel of the city. It was so wise and weathered looking, like a mighty watchman over its people. As though it had knowledge traced in its very walls of secrets that had been lost for centuries. It had seen war, and it was about to see peace. There was no better place for the Negotiations.

Sans had actually never seen it before, not from the inside anyway. Once or twice they had driven by, dropping Asgore and Alphys off for work, but that was the extent of his knowledge of the place; that and that which Alphys had told him. He had not been alive during the years of the War, and it was not like he had ever had any reason to visit the Institute after making it to the Surface. He liked science, sure, but something about the laboratories and humans in white jackets freaked him out. Not a lot, but enough to keep him from getting too close. His attitude toward it all was that Alphys and Asgore would take care of it, and he could focus on simply living his life on the Surface. He never had a reason to go to the Science Institute...

Until today.

It was a place that made one feel small, and it was meant to. For someone as short as Sans, that was really not that big deal of a victory. Sans couldn't help imagining the insane amount of time and resources such a building project would have required. And inside was even more impressive. The ancient humans had decorated the walls with many carvings, some of which were animals, others were human, and a few, _very_ few, were monsters. Thankfully, the scenes depicted were not offensive to anyone. If they had been of the War, things would have been different. As it was, the carving only depicted times of relative peace before the War.

Sans only noticed all this in passing. He, along with Papyrus, Toriel, Undyne, and Frisk were quickly hurried along the Institutes' halls by Alphys and Asgore. The lizard-like monster kept muttering to herself, claiming that if they weren't quick they would be late. Thankfully, Undyne's confidence outweighed Alphys' worries, and she calmed down to a less frantic state. Papyrus was occupied with his new surroundings, pointing things out that he recognized from the history book Toriel had lent him. Sans read it to him every night. It was a nice break from their usual bedtime story.

Since everyone else was occupied, Sans took it upon himself to watch after Frisk. The child stayed very close to him, her hand wrapped firmly in his. It was odd, but sometimes Sans felt that Frisk felt more comfortable around monsters than she did around those of her own kind. He didn't have the heart to ask why. He knew she must have had a life before she had fallen to the Underground, but it had become very clear over time that those questions weren't to be asked, and never to be answered. Whatever her life had been, she had left it behind, and was only too glad to do so. Asking her only resulted in a shrug and a face so downcast that none of Frisk's friends could stand it. And so the questioning had stopped. For Frisk's sake.

They were escorted to a large auditorium, which was all a hustle and a bustle with humans finding their seats. Some were congregating in groups, mostly of threes and four, chatting excitedly in professional manners; filling the air with a hum of chatter. The monsters and their human charge were shown to a blocked off section and told their seats had been reserved by Professor Hornbern himself. They seated themselves, Toriel and Asgore talking in the middle with Alphys and Undyne on the far left end, over by the wall. Papyrus told Sans to save his seat next to Toriel before scooting out to go find something to eat. That left Sans and Frisk sitting on the far right of the reserved seats, with a small gap between them and the others.

Sans sat back against the rather uncomfortable chair with a sigh. Being so short, his feet didn't even reach the floor when he sat, leaving his legs dangling. Not that he really, truly cared. He was feeling a little more tired today, having had nightmares the night before. He had hoped that the pleasant day up on the mountain would have helped his condition, but apparently it had only made it worse. His dreams had been riddled with frightening memories of the Judgment Hall, Chara, Papyrus' death, and even a rare assortment of Flowey's influence. It had been bad. It was just one nightmare after another, unbroken, until finally Papyrus had managed to shake him awake. It had left Sans feeling drained and tense.

But at least it hadn't been dreams of that dark figure.

He kept telling himself that. Kept insisting that it was somehow better. It might not be pleasant in either sense, but he would take the lesser of two evils any day. And he wasn't going to miss this conference. He was curious now, about the Negotiations, but especially about this Doctor Gaster business. He wanted to know more of what was going on, and why he had reacted so violently to a name he didn't even know...Didn't _think_ he knew.

Sans let himself slump in his seat, allowing his head to lean against the chair's back. He stared up at the ceiling. It too was amazingly ornate. Paintings, old and beautiful, adorned every available space; with swirling trim that crissed and crossed wherever they could. Some parts looked as though they might be overlaid with gold. There were no windows in the large room, but the bright, cheery atmosphere seemed to make up for it, golden light coming from chandeliers above.

Sans felt something settle on his wrist and startled. Looking to his left he found Frisk, hand laying over his arm uncertainly and her face filled with questioning concern. Sans took a breath, forcing a smile on his face. "Sorry. Guess I'm still a little jumpy about last night." He had definitely had enough time to get over that, but something about the Science Institute was making that nasty, uneasy feeling come back. He decided to change the subject. "What do you think of this place, huh?"

"It's big," Frisk answered, looking up at the tall, ornate ceiling. "It sort of reminds me of our trip to the museum." She smiled at him mischievously. "Remember that?"

Sans let out a chuckle, also studying the expanse above them again. "Heh. How could I not? Pap got so excited about the gift shop he nearly bought everything they had. Including the cash register box.''

Frisk laughed, the sound muffled beneath the cacophony of movement and chatter around them. She leaned her head sideways against him and he could feel her shake with each chuckle she gave. She remembered well the face of the cashier when Papyrus had come to the counter with his arms overflowing with trinkets, toys, and cheap imitations of great works of art. That alone had been priceless.

Papyrus had loved the museum; every inch of it. He had practically raced through every exhibit, and Sans had seriously considered buying one of those human leashes he had seen parents use to keep track of their younger children. Somehow, though, he doubted that would have helped. Papyrus loved to learn. Anything that had to do with the Surface absolutely fascinated him; art, history, films, and even music. He couldn't get enough of the stuff. Of course, Sans had enjoyed the trip too.

"What about you and that _one exhibit_?" Frisk prodded him with a giggle, and Sans turned a little flushed with blue.

There had been one exhibit, on astronomy specifically, that had been in the far left wing of the museum. Sans, who for most of the trip had been slowly trailing behind the others, had actually rushed forward to examine every word the display had to offer. His love of the stars had only increased since their arrival on the Surface; he had even gotten a bag of those plastic glow in the dark stars and had stuck them to the ceiling of his bedroom. But there was only so much one could read about in the library, and this exhibit had newer information that most of the books there had not held.

Sans had been almost giddy with curiosity. The others had teased him about it for weeks, and Frisk was still well and firmly planted in that frame of mind. She had thought he had looked so...happy. So excited. Almost as excited as Papyrus. Her teasing was more of a show of her relief that Sans, even after all he had been through, could be like that. Even if it was rarely.

Sans gave her a defensive look. "Well, at least I didn't try to buy the exhibit or something."

"No," Frisk giggled. "No, you didn't."

They sat in silence a moment, both smiling to themselves. Papyrus returned from wherever he had run off to, carrying what looked like a bag of chips. The monsters had come to enjoy the human snack quite a bit since their introduction to it, though it wasn't quite as satisfying as their own chisps from the Underground. Papyrus made himself comfortable back in his seat, struggling to open the plastic bag with his smooth, bony fingers. He finally managed, though a few chips went sailing onto the floor as a result. Sans informed his brother that he had better eat it before the Negotiations started, otherwise his crunching would be too loud. Skeletons had the unfortunate curse of not being able to chew with their mouths closed, a fact that many humans seemed to find extremely annoying and were very slow in accepting.

Papyrus readily opened the bag and dug in, crunching away and offering some to anyone who came within reach. Few people wanted any, but Frisk quickly helped him polish off the bag. Sans didn't feel like having any.

When a sudden hush seemed to come over the room, they knew that the meeting must be starting. Papyrus, with one final, noisy chew, swallowed and threw the empty bag in a nearby trash, returning to his seat just as Professor Hornbern moved up to stand at the podium at the center of the lecture hall.

"Evening, ladies and gentlemen," he paused, giving a civil nod toward where Frisk sat with her family. "And a special welcome to Frisk and our monster representatives." He shuffled a few papers around on the podium before continuing. "I'm sorry to say that, among the normal business we will be addressing this afternoon, there is also a few matters of law that must, and will, be addressed. But that will be taken care of shortly. First, I would like to invite Mr. Caldwell up to give us an update on his projects-"

The meeting went on for what felt like hours; and probably _was_ hours. When Hornbern had invited them, Sans had imagined that the war crime against Gaster would be brought to light immediately. It was really the only part of the gathering he was interested in hearing. Though he appreciated the Negotiations, politics and law had never really been his thing. He liked science, and understood a good deal of it too; another mystery that his limited memory seemed to be hiding from him. While the war crime was definitely intertwined with law, it was also heavily shrouded in science, and Sans couldn't resist his curiosity.

That, and he felt a strange need to learn more about the name that had caused him so much distress a few nights prior, and yet that he couldn't remember any connections to. No one did.

Various speakers gave their piece. One man, fat and downright unpleasant looking, gave a long winded report on monster and human intermingling out by the shoreline. Apparently a lot of water-inclined monsters had settled there and were disturbing the ecosystem or something. Well, that was to be expected. A lot of those monsters ate fish, it only made sense that they would try to get their meals the only way they knew how; by hunting. The fishermen weren't happy with that answer apparently.

A women, old and grey-haired with glasses perched on the end of her nose gave a talk about the school system, and how the children were taking the integration far better than the adults. That too made sense; children were far more accepting and far less influenced by past prejudice than their parents. And another man spoke of the cost the population increase was creating. Then someone spoke of the benefits of having monsters in the military, and yet another woman concluded that the media wished to start making monster-oriented films. It was beside the point, but somehow someone had let her in.

Then Undyne was called up to talk about her work with the police. She told how, though many humans were taking the integration very well, there were still factions in the city that were strictly anti-monster, and she discussed how those problems were being addressed. Then it was Alphys turn, and though Sans tried his very best, by this time he had all but tuned the meeting out completely. It was like watching grass grow, and he soon allowed his eyes to droop shut.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that, but when something tapped his shoulder he jolted awake hard enough to bump his elbow hard against the wood of his seat, producing a loud thump. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice; Alphys was still talking and everyone else was still listening. Rubbing his elbow bone a little ruefully, Sans turned to the presence that had awoken him.

"Man, kid. Ya startled me."

The child was shifting around uncomfortably in her seat, looking rather desperate. She leaned forward, whispering quickly into her friend's non-existent ear. Sans' face went slightly blue.

"Oh. Well, um, there has to be one around here someplace." He carefully stood to his feet, taking Frisk's hand. "Come on. We'll go look."

He carefully caught Toriel's attention, letting her know he was taking Frisk to the restroom. He'd have preferred Toriel do it, but he seriously needed to get up and stretch his legs. And he wasn't missing anything. He could spare a few minutes waiting out in the hall. And so, scooting out of the aisle, Frisk and Sans made their way out of the auditorium, through the heavy, ornate doors, and into the hall.

In all truth, Frisk was old enough to go find the bathroom herself, but her importance made her a target. To who, exactly, Sans didn't know, but he nor any of the others were ever willing to take that chance. They were with her almost constantly, to protect her if need be. They all loved her dearly.

It didn't take long to locate the restroom, and Frisk hurried inside while Sans stood far enough away down the hall as not to feel awkward. He found a water fountain, the type that humans seemed to have an affinity for throwing coins into. He didn't quite understand the reasoning behind the activity, especially since humans seemed to value money so highly, even in the smallest amounts. Apparently it was how humans liked to make wishes.

Heh.

Sans stuck his hands in his pockets, frowning slightly as his right hand brushed against something small and round, deep within the material's folds. Withdrawing it from his jacket, he found a small pebble in his bony palm. It was a small crumb left over from the stones he and Frisk had gathered the day before, nothing but a gritty stone, nothing pretty. And yet, he smiled at it, before gazing back up at the fountain. He looked back down at the pebble and then stepped forward, letting it slip off of his hand and into the water with a quiet _plip_. It wasn't a coin, and he really didn't have any wish, other than that maybe his mind would feel less burdened by the past, but it was more the gesture that was important to him. That little rock was worth far more to him then all of the coins glittering in the fountain's bottom, because it reminded him of friendship, and family, and hope. That was far more valuable than anything the materialistic humans could ever come up with.

"Did you make a wish?"

He turned, finding Frisk behind him, watching him curiously. He shrugged, turning to face her fully and slipping his hands back into his pockets. "Nah. I've already got everything I want." Frisk looked both pleased and confused, but she didn't push him. "Ya ready to head back, kid?"

She nodded.

"Okay, then."

Together they headed back down the hall, which, despite its size, thankfully did not resemble the Judgement Hall at all. It was far too old and Greek looking. Though, looking back, Sans supposed the Judgement Hall had had a certain amount of Hellenistic style to it. It wasn't as prominent in monster architecture as it was in the human's. That had been long before the War of Humans and Monsters. Evidence was riddled in their literature and epics of the existence of monsters, and Sans often wondered how they could have been forgotten for so long. When they had first made it through the Barrier, the humans were thrown into shock, having believed they were nothing but myths.

Heh. Surprise.

One would think they wouldn't have been so startled. Sans had read books, or at least parts of books, by a human named Homer, and then there were many other stories that mentioned monsters as living, breathing creatures. Unfortunately, usually in a villainous way. Eh, but what could you do? Those authors were long dead and gone, and there was little reason in condemning those who were no longer there to defend their actions.

Like this Gaster person.

Though Sans felt a twist of dread as he thought of the name. He couldn't help but think it didn't make sense to squabble over laws and crimes that no one even remembered. The guy was dead. Must be, after all these years. What was the point of digging up the past? The humans certainly weren't going off of anything personal, after all, it was only after they had gone through _their_ research that the humans had even found out about what this Gaster had done.

Sans quickened his pace. "Aw, man, I hope we didn't miss the war crime case."

They pushed in through the large doors to the auditorium, halting a moment inside to take a glance toward the stage. Shoot. Professor Hornbern had already started. The man was standing back at the podium, explaining some of the preliminary information he had shared at Redemption the day before. Well, that wasn't too bad. At least they hadn't missed anything new. Sans and Frisk quickly made their way back to their seats, ignoring the glares some of the humans were giving them. As Sans slipped back alongside Papyrus, the taller skeleton gave him a questioning glance, but remained silent. All eyes, including Sans and Frisk's, fixed on the man on the stage before them.

"-and that is why this case is going to discussed," Hornbern finished. "So that it can be processed, and then we can get back to the more normal branches of the Negotiations." He took a sip of water from a glass beside him, clearing his throat before continued. "While it has been a case long since gone and forgotten, it is important that all hard feelings between our people are resolved, and though the offender in this case has long since passed, the deed must still be properly addressed." He picked up a piece of paper, adjusting his spectacles to gaze at the writing. "According to our records of the War of Humans and Monsters, in the summer before the Barrier was erected, a monster scientist by the name of W. D. Gaster attacked this very institution, destroying nearly half of the building, and killing a total of eight humans. This record was also only found recently."

A murmur went through the crowd of humans, and the monsters present instinctively curled in on themselves, before Hornbern continued once again.

"According to the further proof, provided to us by Doctor Alphys and former king Asgore-" Here he nodded to both. "-this event is indeed accurate and is supported by said scientist's own journals." He held up several dusty, grey objects of various sizes. Notebooks and folders. Old ones.

"Though mostly written in a foreign and long-dead language, within these pages lie entries of Doctor Gaster's work. From what we have been able to translate, one such entry provides a direct confession and proof that he truly and willfully murdered those eight individuals in direct violation against the Ebottian Laws of War, wherein magic was agreed upon by both parties not to be used in the slightest. Doctor Gaster broke that pact, therefore making it void. After which humans retaliated in kind, using magic to trap monsters beneath the earth."

If Sans had had hair, it would have been bristling. He knew Hornbern was on their side, but that statement had almost felt like an accusation that monsters had deserved what they had gotten. That they had struck first, and had been dealt with properly. He didn't like it, but remained quiet.

Hornbern had stepped away from the podium, a small remote in his hand. He clicked a button and a projection appeared on the white screen behind him. It was a picture of a red liquid, brighter than blood, but thinner, and it gave its own glow. Sans heard several people, one of which he was sure was Alphys, gasp.

"This is what is known as DETERMINATION. It is the most powerful known soul substance, which is fairly common in humans, but nearly non-existent in monsterkind." Hornbern held up one of the smaller, grey notebooks. "In Doctor Gaster's last entry - the one which applies to the case to some degree, seeing as it seems he continued his work even after being banished to the Underground - it is insinuated that this monster injected himself with this element, resulting in unimaginable power that gave him the strength to overcome eight human souls single handedly."

Now that was...scarily impressive. Even as a science lover himself, Sans could not see himself purposefully pumping something so dangerous into his body. DETERMINATION was extremely unstable outside of its human host, and, as Sans seemed to recall, was more than likely fatal to a monster...

...How did he even know that?

The skeleton's attention was recaptured as Hornbern prepared the audience for the next slide.

"While we have managed to, as I said, translate a fair portion of this entry, there is one phrase that was completely illegible. I have a slide of it." He clicked a button on the little remote again, and the projection changed...

And Sans suddenly felt as though the world was tearing around him.

* * *

Frisk didn't know exactly what was happening.

She was actually understanding a lot more of what Hornbern had been saying than she would have expected, seeing as she had actually lived through such things that made her very familiar with DETERMINATION. It was her Soul Trait, after all. But she wasn't bored by the scientist's words, and had learned forward to see the projection of these 'symbols' he was mentioning.

And then everything went wrong.

As the slide changed, a series of three symbols were shown, pitch black against white screen. They held no meaning to her, and she was pretty sure no one else had a clue either. But when she felt Sans all at once stiffen beside her, she began to have doubts. The child turned her head to the skeleton questioningly, opening her mouth to ask what was wrong, but when she fully saw him, she lost the ability to do so.

Sans was shaking, bones rattling softly against his seat and eyes wide. He was sweating, and his left eye socket, which a moment ago had been nothing but a point of curious light, was now a flame of cyan magic. Frisk gave a light gasp, jumping to her feet to face him, her hands reaching out to touch him, only to hover there, afraid to do so. Sans wasn't looking at her; he was looking through her.

Something was wrong.

At her sudden movement, Papyrus shifted his eyes from the podium to his side, giving Frisk a confused look, before he too realized his brother's condition. He instantly slipped from his own seat, crouching in front of Sans, calling his name as softly as he could. His movement caught the other monsters' attention, and pretty soon even some of the humans had turned with frowns, trying to see what was going on.

Toriel shifted until she was at Papyrus' side, searching the face of her pun-loving friend, frightened by the lack of response she received. "Sans? Sans, what is wrong?" It had been a bad idea to bring him. They should have made him stay home. This was some sort of attack, some sort of illness that she feared might be connected to the incident a few nights before. She reached for Sans' hand, a little more confident than Frisk. "Please, it is alright. Sans?"

"Is...something the matter up there?"

Hornbern's voice rose over the speakers, not angry, but clearly confused. He had stopped his presentation, eyes now fixed on the seating where the monsters sat, or were actually now standing. After a moment of realizing who he was addressing, every eye in the auditorium was suddenly fixed on them. Toriel straightened up quickly, planning to answer and ask for someone to fetch an ambulance or something, when suddenly one of the humans screamed. The blue flame in the skeleton's socket must have startled them.

Everything after that was utter chaos. At the sound of the scream, Sans was suddenly on his feet; soul, hand, and eye socket blazing a violent blue. The humans, eyes wide and frightened, jumped to their feet, scrambling back and over one another in an effort to get away as magic bones started forcibly shoving up through the tiles of the Institute floor. The air filled with crunches, screaming, and the crumbling of marble as people just barely evaded the attacks. It was only Sans strangely disoriented state that allowed them to escape with their lives.

"SANS!"

Papyrus tried to pull down on his brother's raised arm, tried to pull or shake the shorter skeleton out of his odd and dangerous behavior, but found Sans to be unnaturally strong. He didn't even seem to be aware of Papyrus' efforts, his eye glowing as magic poured from him; violent and angry. The tall skeleton turned to Toriel, who was still beside him and wringing her hands.

"I CAN'T STOP HIM! HE'S NOT LISTENING TO ME!''

Papyrus shifted a step back, vaguely aware that Asgore was making his way down the aisle toward them. If anyone could restrain Sans, it was the immense, goat-like monster. He would be gentle, and Papyrus trusted him with Sans, like he had the other night. Unfortunately, Sans also seemed to sense the ex-king's approach. With a flare of magic, Sans jerks back, something faint beginning to materialize above him. Papyrus and Toriel looked up in trepidation, uncertain, before gasping and backing away in true and honest fear.

A skull, like that of a fierce beast and incredibly large, identical eye socket to Sans' glowing with a terrifying intensity, was now hovering, almost protectively over the small skeleton. Its eye swept the room, ignoring the monsters, before it settled on the podium where Professor Hornbern was still calling into the microphone, trying to calm the room of panicked human beings. The giant skull opened its maw, an intense blue fire radiating from deep within its existent-less throat. A high pitched whine suddenly filled the air, like the charging of some powerful cannon.

"WATCH OUT!"

Papyrus, though he had never seen the horrifying weapon before, managed to grasp its intentions only a few seconds before it fired. By luck alone was he able to gather the strength and magic to reach out with his energy, grasp a hold of Hornbern's soul, and pull him to the side just as a beam of concentrated blue magic disintegrated half the stage; with Hornbern barely escaping being burned alive. The human scientist lay on his side just out of danger, his soul now released, panting and staring with eyes full of fear at Sans from across the room.

Papyrus himself was panting, the effort of grabbing a soul from such a distance clearly taking its toll. But his brother was far more important at the moment. The tall skeleton had never feared his brother. Never. Even when Sans occasionally got serious and his eye sockets went all dark and void. Never. It was never fear _of_ Sans, but always fear _for_ Sans. And this time was no different. Except that Papyrus was shaking. He tried to convince himself it was just the extensive use of his magic to save Hornbern, but deep down he wondered if that was really true.

No longer daring to touch his brother, Papyrus resorted to shouting, something he was very good at, trying to break his brother out of whatever madness had gripped him. "SANS! BROTHER! STOP THIS! STOP IT!" His voice grew more desperate as that high pitched whine returned, blue magic growing in the hovering skull's maw once more. Even as Papyrus grabbed Frisk and Toriel, forcing them back, away from their friend, Papyrus still tried to reach him. "BROTHER! PLEASE!"

But Sans didn't respond. The canon-like skull fired again, this time blasting a hole in the left side of the auditorium. Thankfully, the humans panicking there had fled just in time, but it was a mess. Wires and scaffolding crumbled, sticking out oddly from the broken wall. Someone had called security, but there was nothing they could do. No one could even get near Sans, and anyone who tried was instantly a target.

Except Frisk.

Toriel noted the child's absence at her side with a gasp, eyes frantically searching the upheaved room teaming with panic. The sight of the little human, crouched in the row of seats behind the one Sans was still standing in, almost made the goat-like woman cry out. But she held it in, using her fear to grab a hold of Papyrus' arm, catching his attention as to what the child was trying to do. Yelling to her would only draw Sans' attention. Frisk was full of DETERMINATION. She was not going to leave her friend like this. Her family.

And neither was Papyrus.

The skeleton braced himself, watching Frisk slowly making her way toward his brother. He was waiting for the right moment. He wasn't exactly sure how he'd do it, but he was done with this. Sans was in a very bad position now, and was both _in_ danger and _a_ danger. He needed to be stopped.

* * *

Sans felt as though his entire body were burning. The world was tearing around him, ripping reality and distorting it so that he could not tell what was real and what was not. Calm was suddenly screeching, swirling chaos. Light was darkness. Peace was danger. He couldn't even tell the difference between them. Where was he? What was that sound? Why was he in pain? He was only answered by confusion. He thought he heard voices, familiar ones. A touch, light and gentle on his hand. He tried to cling to it, but the sensations were slipping, distorting.

Then, a voice, deep, loud; it boomed around him, demanding a question, though he didn't understand it. And then there was a scream. Without any control, Sans felt his magic flare up, taxing his soul with the amount of energy that was mustered within it.

More screaming. Shouting. The sound of energy discharging. Sans didn't know what was happening, but he threw every ounce of his inner strength into trying to stop it. He felt as though he weren't truly there, as though he were an outsider, watching the whole thing from afar, through frosted glass. The only sensation that shattered that suggestion was the feeling of his powers flaring, draining with each violent attack his body released. It hurt, mostly because he was fighting it, and he wasn't quite sure if the shouts of pain he could just vaguely hear were from him, or someone else.

Oh man, he hoped it wasn't someone else! What if his friends where there?! What if Frisk was there?! Somehow his mind managed to clear fractionally, and he vaguely remembered that they _were_ there. They were _all_ there! All of them! The whole darn Negotiations Board was there!

_Bad! Bad! Bad!_

Noise was muffled, everything sounding like he was under water, while his vision was little more than a colorful haze full of drifting shapes and patterns. He could feel his body moving of its own accord, somehow immune to the commands his mind was screaming at it to obey. Some kind of power, like and yet unlike his own, tingled all through him, and he felt as though it were building up, despite its discharging, threatening to overwhelm him. The sensation was frightening, and yet he could not even physically react to it.

He only fought harder. He fought harder than he had fought in a long time. Maybe even harder than he had ever fought in the Judgment Hall. Instead of fighting to kill, he was fighting to save, and somehow that was far more motivating.

But it wasn't working.

Suddenly, he felt something wrap around his waist from behind; small fingers latching onto his coat with more force than he had felt in a long time. It made him gasp, partially out of surprise and partially out of fear as he felt his magic swelling to defend himself against his will.

It was Frisk. It had to be Frisk. He knew it was Frisk. And, if he didn't do something quick, she was going to die by his hand. Again. He felt another form embrace him, and had a very strong feeling it was Papyrus.

Gathering more willpower and inner strength than he had thought possible, Sans worked on calming himself down. He fought against the urge to fight, the urge to lash out. It almost hurt to do so. It hurt to fight against something so strong and deep within him. But he would not kill Frisk or Papyrus. He'd rather kill himself.

_He. Would. Not. Hurt. ANYONE!_

There was a flash of heat within his soul, like something breaking, some force or hold. The magic let him in and he shut it down desperately. Everything within him slowed to a dragging rate, and his vision returned like a cooling haze after that searing blue. And with a gasp of pain and relief, he felt himself collapse to his knees.

* * *

Sans was left panting, kneeling in the ruins of the auditorium with Papyrus griping him tightly in front, and small arms wrapped around him from the back. His younger brother was bruised and scuffed, eyes open wide in panic even as Papyrus held onto him with a death grip. Papyrus was speaking, tears running down his face, but Sans couldn't hear or understand, at least at first. Then, as that dreadful, powering hum drained out of his marrow, Sans could finally hear what was being said. And it broke his heart.

"...S-SANS! PLEASE...PLEASE STOP, BROTHER...PLEASE...''

What was left of the blue fire in Sans' eye went out, leaving his sockets completely dark, before the smallest hint of white pinpricks began to appear. "P-Pap...?"

Papyrus gave a shuddering sigh, pulling his brother into an even tighter protective hug. "O-OH, SANS!"

From the embrace, Sans' eyes slowly focused and then wandered over the scene around him. Frightened faces, both monster and human, stared back at him, all looking as though ready to bolt. The auditorium was in shambles, dust and plaster still slowly raining down from the holes in the once beautiful ceiling. The stage was charred and blackened, the podium little more than a twisted mound. The air was thick with smoke, and somewhere an alarm was going off. Some humans were running about, headed for the exit, but Sans noticed his friends, those he lived with, staring at him, not moving in the least. Their faces were horrified. Scared. And it hurt.

Slowly, Sans began to piece his thoughts together. He had done something...He had felt magic. He had used it...He had done this...He had used his magic against the humans and his family, and he hadn't been able to stop himself. Sans started shaking, his slack grip returning Papyrus' hug suddenly growing tight as the full weight of what he had done crashed down on him.

Frisk released him from the back, scooting carefully over the debris to sit closer to his front, watching worriedly. Slowly, as the room emptied of humans and the sound of sirens drew closer outside, the other monsters inched closer.

Sans couldn't even look at them.


	7. Consequences

The front door to Redemption slammed open with a resounding bang, the swinging portal hitting the inner wall as it was pushed wide, probably leaving a visible dent. Undyne, wrathful and muttering darkly, stormed into their home, a rather dazed Sans led by her needlessly forceful hand, marching him inside by the upper arm in a way that Sans could barely keep up with. The others followed, looking frightened and ruffled, but no less worried. It was an unnerved procession. Papyrus followed them in last, shutting the door closed carefully, looking uncommonly like a dog with its tail down between its legs. Frisk was staying very near to him, eyes wide and uncertain, flitting back and forth between the adults.

It had been a solid three hours since the incident, but it was by no means resolved. After the crisis had come to a standstill and Sans had been calmed to a more manageable state, the police had arrived at the decimated Science Institute lecture hall. Sans had been too...out of it to answer their questions at the time, and it had taken a lot of argument on Undyne's part to actually convince the authorities that Sans was no longer any danger. At least, she hoped he wasn't. The police had wanted to take the skeleton into custody, lock him up to prevent any further destruction, which they all knew would only make matters worse. Completely ignoring the fact that, had Sans wanted, he could of knocked them all into oblivion had he so chose. Which, of course, he would never do. But the insane amount of power he had just demonstrated had frightened even those closest to him. It had frightened even him. And that was something that no one could ignore.

The skeleton hadn't killed anyone, and that was the only thing weighing in his favor at this point. Undyne managed to use her connections with the police force to convince them not to arrest Sans on the spot; though only when the fish-like monster had sworn that she would keep him under the closest surveillance. It was practically house arrest, but it was the best they could hope for at the moment. Undyne had agreed, a growl that was heated with a fierce anger.

Throughout the whole ordeal, Sans had remained rather catatonic, head and eyes lowered as Papyrus and Frisk had stood beside him, where they had stayed since he had first come out of his...whatever that had been. He only looked up when an officer quickly informed him that they were letting him go, and that he would be arrested on sight if he so much as strayed from Redemption's property until the problem of his loss of control was investigated. Sans had nodded numbly in understanding, too exhausted for any other response.

Undyne would never have admitted it, but she was extremely freaked out. And that, in every sense of the statement, took a lot. Though she sometimes berated him and hated his punny hide, or lack thereof, Sans _was_ her friend. And the brother of one of her closest friends. And now that they were all living at Redemption, he was really almost family, in a way. Like some sort of an annoying little brother. Sans' loss of control at the Negotiations filled Undyne with many mixing emotions; anger, fear, worry, confusion, and a sense of protectiveness in that she refused Sans to be taken from them. _Refused._ The fish-like warrior had never felt such a violent swirl of feelings, and wasn't sure how to deal with them. She wasn't really the sentimental type; nor was she one to sit back and ask worriedly what had happened, like Toriel certainly wanted to. And so, Undyne converted her feelings all into one very strong emotion; one she was far more comfortable and familiar with.

_Rage._

"Alright, punk!" Undyne announced loudly, anger very evident in her voice as she came to a halt in the center of the living room floor, swinging Sans around by his arm to face her. "We want explanations, and we want them _NOW!_ What the heck _was_ that?!""

Sans, for his part, had not said a thing since leaving the Science Institute. He was clearly upset, maybe even startled, which was easily readable due to his usual emotion-hiding walls having somehow been dropped. He visibly flinched back from Undyne's demanding question, all the more do to its volume, and would not look her or any of the others in the face. Even as Undyne continued, her voice raised loud enough to rattle the window panes, he remained stubbornly distant.

"Your behavior tonight was unacceptable! Do you know how _hard_ we have all worked to further relations with the humans?! How hard Asgore, Alphys, and all of us have struggled to patch up all the wrongs of the past?!" She looked at him in frustration, giving his arm a rough shake when he still wouldn't meet her gaze. "And then you go and do something that takes all we've managed to do, and unravel it with one, single, _STUPID ACTION!_ "

"Undyne, please...stand down."

But the fish-like woman didn't even acknowledge Toriel's soft plea, her anger far too great. Images of fearful and distressed people kept flashing in her mind, a result of Sans' loss of control, and it only fueled her frustration. She was scared. Scared of Sans, and, even more so, scared _for_ him. And it filled her with anger all the more. "But what would you know of hard work?!" she spat, releasing him with a rough shove of his arm from her. He didn't quite stumble back, but, for a moment, his balance was thrown. Only for a moment, and then his gaze was fixed back on the floor, both hands now shoved deep into his pockets.

Alphys tried softly, voice stuttering. "U-U-Undyne, w-wait-"

She knew Sans better than most, having understood his breakdowns about the resets to a greater degree than any of the others. She knew what it was like to feel overwhelmed by the past. Even before Sans had told them about the timelines, she had suspected that something was wrong. She had seen the signs. Just as she was seeing the beginnings of hurt growing between two of her closest companions. A hurt that might not be able to be mended.

But Undyne wasn't finished. She pointed a shaking finger in Sans' face, finally gaining his attention. His eyes rose slowly, focusing past her long, bare arm to finally meet her eye. He looked hurt, and tired, and _wrong_. It made Undyne feel sick, but she couldn't stop herself, even when the little voice in the back of her head that she knew to be her conscience begged her to. "All you've ever done is mope around; always have and always will! You've never done a thing in your life worth the time!"

There it was. She saw how deeply it cut him to his soul, and she instantly regretted her words. The pain, an almost inconsolable agony gleamed in his gaze, the kind that only true harm can cause. It was perhaps the most heart-rending thing she had ever seen. She choked on a breath, opening her mouth with a mind to try and mend what she had broken; wipe that look away before it haunted her forever, but her words failed her long enough for someone else to gain them.

"STOP IT!"

Papyrus' shout made everyone, including Undyne jump. They all turned their eyes to him, even Sans, their hearts breaking at the sight. The taller skeleton was standing braced, face angry but eye sockets filled with tears that trailed down his bony cheeks. He was so sensitive, like a child, that it was a wonder he hadn't broken down about all this long before then. Or maybe he had, but they hadn't noticed. But now his emotions were too strong to stay silent any longer, his eyes glowing a soft and pained orange as he stomped across the room and placed himself solidly between Undyne and his brother. No one had ever seen him so passionately, and utterly upset.

"STOP THIS AT ONCE! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO TALK TO SANS THAT WAY! EVEN IF I DON'T KNOW WHY HE DID WHAT HE DID; EVEN IF I'M SCARED AND I KNOW HE'S SCARED AND I KNOW WE'RE ALL SCARED I WANT YOU TO STOP IT! PLEASE! I KNOW HE WOULD NEVER DO SUCH A THING WITHOUT A GOOD REASON! SO LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

His expression was far more stern than any of the others had ever seen before, and it froze the room as though all the world had been put on pause. No one spoke, for several long moments, the only sound being Undyne breathing heavily and Frisk's very quiet sniffling in the corner. And then, when Toriel was just thinking of adding her own mediator's call, Sans' small, and somewhat shaky voice muttered sadly from behind his brother's back.

"It's...It's okay, Pap...Undyne's right.''

The room grew even heavier as the older skeleton continued, his entire body trembling.

"I've never been good for much...I get that. I-I made a mistake...but...but for the r-record, I _do_ know what it f-feels like to have all you've worked for u-undone." He wasn't looking at any of them. He had shrunk into himself, appearing so small and frail that it was frightening. "To h-have everything you've striven so h-hard to make right crumble r-right from under you...I-I know...and..." His face looked more hopeless than any of them could have ever imagined. "...and I _promise_ , I would never put anyone else through that on purpose..."

Undyne felt her soul sink. Shoot. _Shootshootshootshoot!_ What had she done? Her own words echoed in her head, on replay, and with each round she became more and more horrified by what she had let slip out unchecked. She should have known better. They all knew the pure depression that had been a thorn in Sans' side, ever since he had nearly given up hope during the resets. He had told them, brokenly, of how he had striven to save them, to make things right, only to have the world and horror start over, as though nothing he had suffered through mattered. While they could not remember the resets, they could understand. Somehow, they _had_ understood. But Undyne, in her anger, had let that understanding fall, crushing her friend in the process. And now, she wondered if she had killed the hope that Sans had been so weakly grasping to begin with.

"Sans, I-"

Sans stepped out of reach of her groping hand, the hand that was seeking to take hold of him as though the terrible things she had said could somehow be snatched back. He moved away from all of them, eyes on the floor, hands in his pockets.

"You don't have to say anything...I get it. And I'm sorry..." He looked like he wanted to say more, but he couldn't bring himself to continue. Stepping back further, he vanished through one of his 'short-cuts' before they could blink, and the soft shutting of the bedroom door upstairs told the monsters and Frisk that the skeleton had reappeared above, shutting himself in the relative safety of his bedroom.

The living room was left with nothing but silence. Terrible, guilty silence on all of their parts. All eyes stared upon the spot Sans had vanished, or slightly to the side. The unsettling quiet was only broken by Undyne's voice, as the fish woman released a soft growl of a word that was definitely not Frisk-friendly.

* * *

Toriel had always been very good at reading people. It had been an advantage when she was Queen, and had only improved in value now that she had taken up her role as a mother and a friend. She could always tell when caution or firmness was called for, and how to coax others into opening up with her. It was her kind and caring disposition, and she knew it. It was a skill she used at every opportunity, if it meant helping someone she cared for. A super power, as Alphys had once jokingly observed. A magic that went deeper than most, without really being a magic at all. It was just her.

That was why, after a short time had passed after the scene in the living room, the boss monster found herself carefully ascending the stairs to the second story of her home. The hall seemed exceptionally long and dark as she made her way down it, right up to the very last door, where a crayon drawing of Sans, lovingly made by Frisk, had been haphazardly taped. It was here that Toriel paused, listening for any hint of noise from beyond the closed threshold, before she gave a tentative knock just above the drawing itself.

"Sans?"

No response.

Her voice became just a little firmer. "Sans, answer me."

There was a long pause, and then, "...What is it?"

His voice was soft and strained, but with the same amount of patience as it had always held. Toriel took a deep breath and continued, her hand very gently testing the door knob, only enough to determine that it was locked, but not enough to wiggle it and alert Sans that she had tried.

"Undyne did not mean any of the things she said," she stated gently. She had witnessed what Sans had not; the fish-like monster's complete regret at what she had said so heartlessly. Undyne was not one to admit fault in almost any situation, and the fact that she did so now meant that she was deeply upset with her slip of care. "You know that. It's just...we were all so startled by what happened. We want to know what went wrong. We know you could not have done that on purpose, but we were just so...so frightened. We want to help. " There was a long pause, long enough for her to try again. "Sans?"

"I know she didn't mean it." His voice sounded even smaller. There was no more. Silence reigned again. Toriel sighed, closing her eyes sadly.

"Can I come in?"

Nothing.

"Sans. Let me in." Still nothing, and the quiet had a defiant quality. "...Please?"

He was upset. Upset that they didn't understand. Upset that his powers had gone out of his control. And just, plain upset. Sans didn't get this way often, at least not in a manner that showed, but whenever he did it just seemed wrong. His casual, nonchalant nature was so drastically different, it sometimes was as though he were two separate individuals. And neither Toriel, nor the others, not even Papyrus, really knew how to help him.

Toriel sighed, looking up at the door frame as though studying it for the first time. A ghost of a smile crept over her face, a small fondness of a long gone ritual.

"So here we are again," she said softly, knowing that she was still speaking loud enough to be heard beyond the structure before her. "Talking to one another through the wood of a door." She paused, letting that sink in. "You remember? We used to tell jokes, laughing together...even though we never saw each other. I did not even know who you were..."

She thought she heard him shift. He must be sitting with his back against the door. A hint of regret entered Toriel's voice. "And yet I did not even open my door to see; to satisfy my own curiosity." Short pause. "Now you are the one shut inside, refusing to open up." She sighed, deeply. "...Sans, we just want to help."

Again she was greeted by only silence. This was useless. She didn't know how to handle it, and it hurt her to know there was nothing she could do. She thought of forcing her way through to him, but she was certain that would only make matters worse. With another sigh and a sad shaking of her head, Toriel turned to go. But then-

_Knock Knock_

Toriel stopped in her tracks, glancing back at the door with a blink. After a moment, the knock sounded again, this time enunciated ever so quietly by Sans' voice.

"Knock Knock."

Returning to the door, her hands folded over her heart, Toriel answered softly. "Who is there?"

"Tank."

"Tank who?"

There was the slightest pause. Inside the bedroom Sans sat limp against the door. He was sore, exhausted, and confused; and in all honesty he just wanted to be left alone to think. But he had to admit, talking to Toriel through the door had a calming effect he wouldn't have expected. He appreciated what she was trying to do, but he really didn't see how she could help. At least, not in a way that truly mattered. But she was trying, and it warmed his soul a bit to know it. Taking a deep breath, he finished the joke.

"No, no. Tank _you_." Then more sincerely, "Tank you, Tori."

Beyond the door, Toriel smiled, giving a small chuckle, one just loud enough to tell her friend that she had heard him. She understood. Sans wasn't mad at them, not even Undyne; he just needed a little space. She was willing to give it to him.

As Toriel's footsteps receded down the hall and descended the stairs, Sans released a shuddering sigh. He hadn't felt this emotional for a while; not since his breakdown about the resets. But this was different. While his dreams and flashbacks usually never posed a threat to anyone, except maybe himself, this last little episode had been very dangerous. He could have hurt someone. He could have _killed_ someone.

His hands were shaking as he lifted his head from them and gazed at the bony appendages. He clenched them into fists, but that only made them shake harder. He gave another sigh, letting his arms drop to his sides, bone thumping dully against the door at his back.

"...I really messed up..."

He sat that way for some time, completely drawn into a constant cycle of thoughts that only furthered his guilt and shame. After a while, a long while, he heard Frisk's small feet come up the steps. Was it really that late already? She was down the hall, then in the bathroom, brushing her teeth. It was a routine he was familiar with. Normally, Sans would have been out there with her, him and Papyrus, getting ready to tuck her in. Sans usually read her a story, something that also took care of his brother's needs in that area. It was yet another thing, a good thing, that had followed them to the Surface. And it normally gave Sans a warm joy that he had rarely felt after so many resets and timelines.

But not tonight.

Sans couldn't.

It almost physically hurt when those little feet walked over the carpet to stand in front of his bedroom door. He heard her, pause there; could almost feel her indecision on how to proceed. For a moment, Sans was afraid the child would try to come in, and he tensed, automatically bracing his weight against the door to keep her out. But Frisk didn't even try. He sensed her standing there, in silence, before there was a soft sigh and the shifting of feet once more. Frisk walked down the hall to her own bedroom, the door closing softly shortly after.

He was alone again.

Sans released a shaky breath, shifting uncomfortably. His eyes fell to the floor as he became aware of murmurs in the room below him. He couldn't understand a single word, but the tone was low, worried, and tense. The others were talking. Now that Frisk was in bed, they probably felt they could do so freely. The diminutive skeleton tried to listen in, afraid and yet determined to hear. When he couldn't, he shakily stood to his feet. Opening his bedroom door as soundlessly as possible, he stepped out into the hall.

It was grey and dark, no light other than the white of the walls. It was rather eerie. Sans was grateful for the thick carpet, helping him move without any noise, the only thing to be wary of being the creaky boards. He knew instinctively where those were, though, and navigated the hall like an expert might navigate one of Papyrus' old puzzles. As he passed his brother's room he could spot Papyrus' digital clock through the open door. It read 11:30. That was quite a bit later than Sans would have expected, especially since Frisk had just gone to bed. And tomorrow was a school day.

The skeleton carefully slipped by Frisk's closed door, before taking the stairs one gentle step at a time. The kitchen was very dark, the only light being the small glow coming from the stove and microwave. The time there was a minute slow, reading as 11:29. It was harder to tread silently across the tiles of the kitchen, but somehow Sans managed. He reached the hall, but didn't enter, finding the entryway to the kitchen more than close enough to hear the conversation going on in the living room. He stayed to the archway's side, in the darkness and out of sight.

"-NEVER DONE THAT BEFORE!" Papyrus was saying, his tone both shushed and loud all at once. "HE DIDN'T MEAN TO. YOU SAW, HE WAS _HURTING_ , UNDYNE!"

"I know that, bonehead!" Undyne's frustrated voice growled, and Sans flinched to hear it. "We know he didn't mean to, but that doesn't change the fact that it happened!"

Toriel's voice was the next to speak. "Surely the humans will understand, will they not? They must not think that-"

Undyne's anger was instantly upon her. "What don't you all understand?! The humans aren't gonna understand anything about this! They haven't had to deal with magic for hundreds of years! To them, this was like something out of some horror movie! To them this was an attack! This is going to throw everything the Negotiations have tried so hard to do right out the window! As far as the humans are concerned, Sans was trying to _kill_ them!"

Sans felt as though everything were crashing down around him. Apparently, Papyrus felt the same way. Sans managed to lean a bit, catching sight of a part of the living room from his hiding spot. He could just make out one side of his brother, though not his face.

"MY BROTHER WOULD NEV-"

"Oh, shut up, Papyrus!"

"U-Undyne! D-Don't speak th-that way t-to him!"

There was a very long silence, in which the very air seemed to buzz with a sickening tenseness. Sans felt as though he would have liked to waltz in and give his opinion on the whole deal...but who was he to say anything? This was all his fault. He didn't have the right to it. Didn't have the right to do anything about it.

Finally, Asgore's deep voice filled that dreadful stillness.

"I know we are all very upset. And Undyne is right in saying that the humans will not take this lightly. Sans' loss of control will frighten them..." His tone grew even heavier, his voice nearly a whisper. "And perhaps...we should be so as well."

Papyrus seemed close to tears. "I WILL _NOT_ FEAR MY BROTHER. I WILL _NOT_."

"Of course not, dear," Toriel soothed, and a slight shifting of material indicated that she had moved to take the taller skeleton's hand. "But maybe we should be frightened _for_ him. There is obviously something very wrong."

"I-I'll try to see if I can look him o-over in the morning," Alphys muttered sadly. She sighed. "I suppose I'll be hearing f-from Professor Hornbern tomorrow...I'm...I'm not sure what he's going to say...about all of th-this."

Sans had heard enough. Backing away slowly, he headed back for the stairs, his fingers weakly trailing across the counter and wall as he passed. How could he have let this happen? How had he managed to lose control like that? It had almost been as though he hadn't been in control of his actions, merely a puppet, with no will of his own. He had scared the humans, and his friends. Heck, even Papyrus had looked genuinely terrified. He had literally undone months worth of negotiations, just like Undyne had said. Humans were going to hear about this whole thing, and their fear would grow. What if they _did_ think it was some sort of attack? What if they struck back? What if he had just inadvertently started another war?!

He couldn't live with that.

He couldn't.

He had to fix this before that happened.

_If_ it happened.

But he wasn't going to take that chance.

Making his way back up the stairs, bones still sore from his immense drain of magic from before, Sans waited until he was back in the safety of his room, door shut behind him, before he started to truly consider his thoughts. He figured the best thing to do now would be to somehow apologize to the humans; smooth the whole thing over and show that he truly hadn't meant to do what he had. But who could he go to that would make a difference? The police were not an option, seeing as they had threatened to lock him up if he so much as set foot off of Redemption grounds. That ruled out anyone Undyne knew. All of Alphys' friends were also out, seeing as most of them had been at the Negotiations in the first place. Pap had a few acquaintances, but no one Sans would trust with something this drastic. And the small skeleton himself had no friends among the humans.

That left very few people as an option.

Whoever he chose would have to be someone of standing, and that narrowed the options even further.

Sans wracked his non-physical brain, trying to come up with a name, any name that might prove as some help. Professor Hornbern seemed to have been the leading human in the Negotiations; perhaps he would be a good start. The more he considered that thought, the more he found it to be his only choice. Hornbern was practical, and stable. Yeah, Sans had almost roasted him earlier that day, but he somehow felt he could still talk with the human without being instantly shut down. It would be his only chance, before things got more out of hand.

Making his decision, Sans walked determinedly toward the door, reaching out a hand to turn the knob, but then froze. The others would try to stop him, or want to go with him if he told them his plans. Sans didn't know which was worse. He needed to do this. Alone. Without telling them, at least for now. He'd explain himself later. How much madder could they get? He was already in trouble. It didn't matter.

The thought made him shudder. _It didn't matter._ Since when had that phrase sneaked back into his mind? Not since...since the resets. It filled him with a sick sort of feeling, cold and painful in his chest and skull. He shook it off, backing away from the door. Glancing about, he used his magic and detected a short-cut. That would work. He gave his room one final glance, an odd sense of dread filling him. It was just nerves, he was sure. He'd be back before the others even knew he had left.

With that, Sans stepped through the short-cut, disappearing instantly, and leaving his room empty.


	8. Amends?

" _Ugnh_...That was a _big_ mistake..."

Sans knew better than to teleport over such a long distance. Especially when his natural suply of magic that his body so thrived on was low. He _knew_ , but he had ignored that knowledge to an extent that bordered idiocy. So full of guilt and shame over his actions earlier that evening, he hadn't even given much thought over the consequences of his actions. And that, in every sense of the word, had been a mistake.

He was dizzy. Dizzy, and sick to his non-existent stomach. If he had had a stomach, and had eaten any substantial meals in the last two days, he was certain he would have lost it right there on the cold, tiled floors of the Institute. Over the years, and the resets, Sans had gotten very used to the bending of time and space, both through the resets themselves and his usage of 'short-cuts'. But, apparently, even he had his limits.

" _Ehhhh_...A-Alright...Let's see..." He opened his eyes, having not even realized he had closed them. He was leaning forward, panting with his hands gripping his knees, limbs shaking slightly under the strain of having used so much of his reserves. But he still hadn't used them completely, and, as far as he could tell, he was in no danger as far as his health went. As long as he didn't do anything foolish.

Again.

The first sight he got as he raised his heavy head was those cold, marble tiles stretching out from him, forming the hall he had traversed not long before. They seemed so much bleaker than they had earlier; so much more foreboding and sad, like a stain upon a beloved sweater might evoke feelings of regret. Sans had actually found comfort in this place only hours before, and now it was yet another place that made him feel ill. Made him feel dirty and useless. Hopeless.

It was dark, the only lights being those from the city streets outside shining through the various windows and pillars. It gave it all a very eerie, surreal feel to it. Now it truly did resemble the Judgment Hall, in a sense. Only this time, it was him who was in need of being judged.

How ironic.

Taking a tentative step forward, Sans started onward, his shoes making scuffing sounds that echoed all around him as he shuffled. It was so lonely and bare here. So desolate. Sans wasn't exactly sure what he had expected to find. It was late by this time, and everyone had gone home; even the police. There was nothing left but darkness and the pattering of his own steps; and yet, something drew him forward, like a call. He made his way down the long hallway, past the little fountain where his stone still sat in the bottom of its well. He walked past the oaken doors of the auditorium, his hand hovering over the handle a moment before he pulled it back. He couldn't face that room again. Not so soon. He backed away, planning to continue, when a voice, startled and quiet, stopped him dead in his tracks.

"...What are you doing here?"

Sans startled, blinking as he turned, feet positioned in the direction he intended to go, but his body refusing to listen to his conscience's cries to flee. He turned his head, filled more with dread than surprise.

Standing there, dark as the shadows that surrounded them, stood the long, lanky form of Professor Hornbern. His face was screwed up in a frown of unease, and...fear? But of course he was frightened. Sans had destroyed almost everything the human had striven for, just like he had with his friends. With one moment of lost control, he had broken the trust that they had all been working so very hard to bridge between their two races. Heck, Sans had almost _killed_ him earlier! Almost incinerated the guy after everything the man had done to help all of monsterkind. His friends might find it in their hearts and souls to forgive him eventually, but Hornbern...Sans did not expect the man to be nearly as understanding. Still, Sans was relieved to have come across the professor rather than anyone else. The police, or any other scientist or student he might have been found by, would have ended everything in a heartbeat.

Sans shuffled his feet, the rubber of his sneakers squeaking awkwardly against the tiles of the floor. He suddenly felt very small, but in a different sense than before. He felt low, despicable; unworthy of even talking to this man. The man that had been so kind and friendly to his friends; his family. Now, instead of a smile, he bore a blank mask, with unease and nervousness leaking through regardless. Not that Sans could blame him. Sans really couldn't blame anyone for _hating_ him after what he had done; not Hornbern, not Undyne; not anyone. And maybe Asgore was right. Maybe he truly was someone to fear.

Sans somehow found himself being the one to break the uncomfortable silence first, swallowing needlessly down his nonexistent throat before he answered in a small voice. "...I-I was hoping I'd find you..." he said weakly.

Hornbern looked apprehensive, taking the smallest of steps backward. "Why?" And Sans hated to hear just how real that tinge of fear was in the human's voice. Almost as an afterthought, Hornbern looked around him, taking another step back. "You're taking a big risk in being here."

The skeleton took a deep breath, forcing himself to struggle out what he had come to say. "...I know I'm taking a risk. I came because I wanted to...to..." Why was this so hard? Why couldn't he just open his stupid mouth and spill it all out. Let out all the shame, and self-anger, and regret. But all that was forth in coming was an unsteady sentence that barely covered any of his feelings on the matter.

"I came to...a-apologize."

The words tasted bitter in his mouth, no matter how much he owed it. And he owed it. Oh _man,_ how he owed it.

Professor Hornbern seemed surprised by the skeleton's words, freezing and sizing Sans up properly for the first time since he had spotted the skeleton walking cautiously in the shadows. Sans let him, expecting his apology to be met with a sudden change to hostility and rejection. But Hornbern only stared, thought clear in his eyes and posture that told that he really, truly was considering the skeleton's words. Finally, the professor took a step forward, though he kept his distance noticeably.

"You...have come only for that?" He seemed perplexed; thrown off by the pure intention of the monster's return. "Even though you are risking your safety and freedom to do so?"

Sans felt himself blush ever so slightly at the man's choice of words. It was a little more heroic than he would have liked to consider it. He gave a weak shrug. "Yeah." He saw Hornbern preparing to open his mouth and decided to gather his courage, cutting the human off.

"Listen, I came because I can't stand to let this all," he waved around him vaguely, "crumble away. Not again. Not after things were finally going right." He numbly realized that the professor would have no idea what he was talking about, but pushed on regardless. "It's my fault that everything went wrong earlier today at the meeting; I couldn't...I couldn't control my magic. Something went wrong..." He grimaced, his bony hand reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nasal cavity. "It's all just so messed up, and I don't want it to be. I don't want the Negotiations to fall just because I wasn't strong enough to hold back. I...I'd never forgive myself for it. Not after all the work you and so many others, including my friends and family, have put into it."

Sans' voice now held a hint of desperation. "There has to be something we can do; something I can do, or anyone can do to _fix_ this." He raised his head, falling silent, having run out of things to say without repeating and sounding like he was begging. Though, at this point, that was not an option he had abandoned just yet.

Hornbern blinked slowly, his anxiety now blanketed by confusion. "You didn't mean to attack us at all, did you?" he asked uncertainly.

Sans shook his head, trying to seem as sorry and guilty as he felt.

The professor gave a sigh, one that spoke of conflicted emotions almost as strong as Sans' own. He held a hand to his forehead, sweeping it downward slowly as he worded his own thoughts rather shakily.

"I too want all to be as it was. We have all worked too long and too hard to let everything fall through now." His gaze returned to Sans' anxious face. "And...I may not have known you long, but I cannot see you having acted as you have on purpose. Monsters, after all, are made of love, hope, and compassion." He shook his head, a little more confidence in his tone. "And you are no different."

Sans felt rather uneasy at the professor's extensive knowledge of his kind, but merely nodded, as though that would somehow prove his innocence.

"But...you did so much damage..." He seemed almost concerned now, and Sans felt himself relax slightly. "What happened?"

Sans lowered his gaze, the lights in his eyes fading even dimmer. "I...I don't know." He clenched his hands into fists at his sides, pushing his guilt to the back of his mind for a moment at least. "But it won't happen again. I want to fix this, and I need your help."

Hornbern blinked. "How?"

Sans began to pace, more at ease now that he knew he and Hornbern were on the same page. "I...haven't really thought that far ahead. To be honest, I didn't think I'd make it this far." He paused, his gaze returning to the great, oaken doors of the lecture hall. "We have to mend the rift I made, but I really don't think anything my friends and I say now will do any good. You humans aren't going to trust us no matter how much we try to explain this whole incident away."

"But I trust you," the professor commented, before adding hesitantly. "To a point."

"But that's because you want to believe this is all true," Sans replied. "There's already plenty of people out there, a majority of people out there, who didn't trust us to begin with. And now, I've only given them a reason to distrust us monsters all the more."

Hornbern nodded sagely. He lowered his gaze in thought, while Sans finished another few steps of pacing. The silence of the hall was once again only broken by the squeaking of the skeleton's shoes against tile. The break seemed to last forever, both monster and man thinking deeply. Finally, an idea surfaced in Hornbern's mind and he held up a finger in proposition.

"What if I spoke on your behalf? As a human myself, they may listen to me. Then I could explain what happened and give some sort of evidence that what happened was all an accident."

Now it was Sans' turn to be adamant. "How? How can you prove that it was all a mistake when even I can't answer to my own actions?" He looked down at his hands, a hint of hopelessness drifting into his voice. "How can you prove that a monster isn't a monster after he's done so much damage?"

Hornbern's face softened to a look of pity. Or maybe it was compassion; sometimes it was a hard thing for Sans to distinguish between the two. After his breakdown about the resets, he had become very familiar with both, and still could not tell the difference between them. He stepped forward, his hesitation now all but gone as he knelt down in front of the diminutive skeleton. Sans fought the urge to step away, finding the gesture invasive and uncomfortable. Belittling, even though that was clearly not Hornbern's intention.

"If it is as you say, that you couldn't help what happened, then it is not your fault." He frowned. "But I see what you are saying. You're loss of control, intended or not, has only fueled the fire, so to speak." He paused, removing his hand but stayed kneeling as he was. "There is one possibility."

"...And what is that?"

"I could...do some tests. Study your magic," Hornbern said slowly, trying to gauge Sans' reaction. The skeleton's discomfort with the suggestion was clear.

"I...don't much like that idea."

"Nothing of any extensive length, I assure you," the professor added quickly, hands held up in a calming gesture. "It's just that, if there is truly something wrong with your magic, there must be a physical sign as to why, right?"

Sans nodded slowly, reluctant to give in to the idea, even so far as just listening to it.

"But, an expert on the ways of monsters though I may be," Hornbern continued, "we know so very little on the nature of monsterkind and the power that drives them. If I can understand how you work a little bit better, maybe I can find proof that what happened today was really and truly not your fault. Then I might be able to sway enough people to your innocence, of _all monsters_ ' _innocence_ , to allow the Negotiations to continue."

Sans backed away a step, feeling even more uneasy. That irrational fear that had plagued him a few days earlier in Alphys lab had returned, full force, and he had no memory or reason to attach to it. It made him ache inside, even though he had no knowledge as to why.

He did not like Hornbern's suggestion. At all. But he was unable to come up with anything better. The professor's logic was sound. A better understanding of his magic might help, seeing as even monsters could not help much in that area. Magic and souls had always been a given. Very few studies existed, even among the research from the Underground. It was always considered a topic better left alone; believed in and respected, but not fully understood. There was no reason to fully understand it.

Until now, it would seem.

"I know you don't like the idea," Hornbern said carefully, ducking his head almost respectfully. "I can see that easily enough even if you hadn't said so; but I really don't see any other way to accomplish what you are asking. What we both want."

Sans gave a short nod, not quite dismissive, but certainly stiff with indecision. The longer he thought the professor's words through, the more strongly he felt against the suggestion at all. But he had to admit. There really was no other way.

Not doing so meant that the Negotiations would fall apart. Monsters would have to face the wrath of humankind once again, which probably would mean being trapped beneath Mount Ebott once more; or maybe even eradicated altogether. Many already saw them as vermin to be gotten rid of, and now they had more than enough reason to back up their prejudice. They were walking a tightrope. One that even now was threatening to snap. Frisk had promised never to reset again, but if faced with the death of so many she cared for...What good was a promise to the dead? Frisk would reset. And Sans would find himself trapped back beneath the mountain and...and...

"I know these negotiations between monsters and humans are already really shaky," Sans sighed deeply, pushing his snowballing thoughts to a standstill. "And I can't let what happened because of me shut down everything you and my friends have been working so hard to accomplish." He winced, remembering the hurt in the eyes of those who were practically his family. "I want people to know that my actions were simply a fluke of my powers. That my actions were no one else's blame but my own. I don't know what happened, but I won't let it happen again. My friends had nothing to do with it, nor any of the other monsters. It was my fault. Even if I didn't mean to do it."

Hornbern nodded, knowing that Sans was trying to come to a conclusion to a very difficult choice. He did not push.

"But I also want you to know that what you are suggesting is very..." Sans faltered, uncertain as to how to express what he wanted to say; an occurance that was rare for him. He always knew what to say. He sighed again. "One's magic is very...private. It's not something to fool around with. It's...us. My magic is _me_. Understand?"

Again, Hornbern nodded. "I understand."

"It's not something I would ever agree to willingly under normal circumstances," Sans continued. "But, like you said, there doesn't appear to be another way. These _aren't_ normal circumstances." He sighed again, trying to bury the nerves that were tingling through him. "On that ground...I guess we have no choice. I agree to it under the terms that if, at _any_ time, I see it as crossing the line, we will stop. _Immediately_." He held out his bony hand, stiff and obviously still wary. "Deal?"

The professor gave him an encouraging smile. Firmly, he took Sans' hand in his own, giving it a hearty shake. "Deal."

Then they separated, uncomfortable and awkward.

Feeling the need to speak, Hornbern cleared his throat and voiced his thoughts. "The Negotiations are on hold at the moment, but I might be able to use the influence I already have to ease up any of the charges against you and your friends. I can let the council know that I will be initiating the investigation myself, and that on a oncoming date I will relate my findings to them. That might buy us some time."

Sans quickly agreed. "Sure. I'll make certain that I keep myself scarce in the meantime."

"That might be wise." The professor looked worried once more. "The police will still be adamant about doing their own investigation."

"I know. Undyne might be able to help me there." At least, Sans hoped she would. "We'll all just have to hold on until we've got enough proof to show this was all just a fluke. Monster magic isn't usually so...unstable."

Hornbern's frown deepened. "All the more concerning in your case." He scratched the back of his neck, reflectively, before his eyes seemed to light up with a sudden thought. "Come with me."

"...W-What?"

The man stood up to his full height, half turning away toward the far end of the hall. He paused at Sans' confusion, turning back with a renewed sense of purpose. "Come with me," he repeated. "We are on a tight time frame as it is. Since you are here, maybe we can start our study tonight." The concern resurfaced in his voice as he took in the skeleton's expression. "That is...if you are willing?"

Sans was startled by the abruptness of the human's decision. Yes, he knew they were pressed for time, but this hardly gave him a moment to mentally prepare. "It...Uh, what are you planning to do...exactly?" A fair question, since, in this case, he was the subject under observation. He had a right to know.

Hornbern's expression softened at the obvious anxiety in Sans' tone. "How about we just take a look at your stats. I've got an office downstairs, private and no one will disturb us, with equipment to take the readings. If it's alright with you, that would be a good place to start."

"I...guess." Sans took an uncertain step to follow. "Only my stats tonight, right?" he confirmed.

"On my word. Only the stats."

Sans hesitated a moment longer, his mind battling between the trust he wanted to put in this man, and the lack of trust he seemed to instinctively have. There was no force in Hornbern's actions, merely invitation. This was his choice, not the professor's. All he had to do was decide to trust, or distrust. While his demeanor was harmless enough, Hornbern's calm, almost at-ease attitude was rather unsettling, somehow. It made Sans feel uncommonly like he was being cornered, even though he could see no danger in the human standing before him. There was no threat, other than Sans' own fears, which he kept telling himself were irrational. His mind was disagreeing strongly, but, despite his mental warnings, the skeleton's need to fix his mistake was far stronger.

Sans took a single step forward. "Okay. But I have to be back home before daybreak."

"Noted. Follow me."

Hornbern gestured with his hand, a smooth, gracious movement that was by no means unfriendly. Sans, though still distinctly wary, gave a slow nod of his head. If complying with the professor's instruction somehow mended what he had done, Sans would risk it. The Negotiations were too important a political matter to let a simple misunderstanding tear it all to shreds. The monsters needed this; they needed to make peace with the humans. If they didn't, what was to stop everything from falling apart again? Nothing. It was worth a little of Sans' time, surely; maybe even a little stepping outside of his comfort zone. And the small skeleton was okay with that. Mostly. Sort of.

Not really.

After the slightest form of final hesitation, Sans followed.

Together, the two started to shift silently away from the place they had been standing throughout their discussion. They moved further into the shadows, the moonlight coming through the windows no long able to reach them. Hornbern led the way down the enormous hall a ways, constantly looking back or pausing to make sure Sans was following. The skeleton in question was visibly uneasy, but pushed onward despite it. Both of them feared running into any other individuals, regardless of the fact that, as far as they could tell, they were alone. But one could never be too careful.

Hornbern followed the big hall for a distance before turning off into a much smaller one off to the side. It was still tiled, but of a different, older design. Sans realized that they were venturing into some of the more ancient parts of the structure; ones that were still yet to be renovated. This hall, in turn, led to a door that required a key card of some kind. Sans watched in fascination as the professor deftly swiped his identification in and out of a slot. There was a soft buzzing sound, followed by a high pitched beep, and then Hornbern led the way through the opening door and onward. It was an even smaller hall now, normal sized, if not a little smaller. It was darker here, and unnaturally silent. Sans could not help feeling uneasy when the door shut and sealed behind them.

"What is this place?"

Hornbern did not even turn as he answered, his stride quick and determined. "These are the office and research facilities. Heavily safe-guarded, naturally. We keep everything for the Negotiations in my office, which is just over here."

Something about this felt wrong. Sans came to a halt, feet braced uncertainly, as though some instinct within him was telling him to run. "Uh...Listen, Professor, but don't you think this is a bad idea? I mean, I did technically attack this place earlier. Won't you...you know, get in trouble? For letting me in here?"

Hornbern reached a door a few paces away, unlocking it before turning back and giving the skeleton a gentle smile. "Well, you took the risk in coming here to try and fix what happened. It only seems fair that I should do the same for you. Besides, all of this 'secret information' isn't really secret to you. We got most of this research from Alphys. Surely you know all about it."

Sans shrugged, peering hesitantly behind Hornbern to the dark room beyond. "To a degree."

The professor nodded, pushing the door open and stepping aside. "Then I wouldn't worry about it. Now, won't you come in?"

He swept a hand toward the semi-dark room, his eyes and smile never once leaving the hesitant skeleton. Finally, after several seconds of staying put, Sans walked forward, entering the room and quickly being followed by Hornbern.

With a flick of a switch the lights came up, and Sans was left blinking in the light of a very crowded room. Papers, folders, and boxes of papers _and_ files littered every corner. There was a desk, though that too was covered in paperwork, almost hidden. Shelves lined with books and articles made the place seem even more cluttered, and there was only a definite path through the objects in which the monster and human could stand.

"Sorry about the mess," Hornbern muttered, stepping around Sans to try and clear a little more space. "When one is in my line of work, one has very little time for such luxury as being organized."

Sans chuckled. "You should see my room."

Fishing about a moment in one of the various boxes, Professor Hornbern finally stood, a device that Sans recognized held in his hand. "This is a stats scanner. Of Doctor Alphys' design, and quite safe. Are you familiar with it?"

Sans nodded, still looking uncomfortable. Alphys had used the thing on him only a few days before, after he had passed out at the dinner table. It was not a pleasent reminder.

"Good." Hornbern switched the device on, checking to make sure it was working before he gestured for Sans to take a seat. "I am not as skilled in this as I would like, but, skilled or no, I know that reading stats is completely harmless, correct? Even if I did it wrong, it would not hurt you?"

Sans shook his head, nervously opting to stand rather than sit. "You just hover it over my soul," he directed.

Hornbern now looked slightly uncomfortable, some of his vigor from before diminishing. "Are you sure this is alright? You seem very...reluctant."

Sans shrugged, trying to act like he didn't care, and not quite succeeding. "Naw, it's just...well, this isn't normal."

"Normal?"

"Asking to see my stats is like...like asking a human to open up their chest and expose thier heart. Like asking a human to allow someone to fool around with something so vital...a simple slip up could be fatel."

That didn't seem to settle well with Hornbern. He swallowed, all his enthusiasm gone. "You don't have to do this, you know. You could just say no, and walk right back out that door." He gestured the the closed door to emphesis.

Sans seemed to consider it, his eyes flitting in that direction, lingering there uncertainly. Then, gaze full of comptenplation, he looked back to Hornbern, who was standing patiently before him. Hornbern was such a kind, trustworthy soul. The kindest, most trustworthy soul the monsters had encountered aboveground. If Sans couldn't trust him with this, who could he? And how else would he fix the mess he had made?

"Thanks for the offer, Professor...But it's okay. I trust you." He gave a somewhat bitter chuckle. "And that's really say'n something, bud. I don't trust very many people these days."

Hornbern nodded, looking down at the divice in his hands once again, with far less enthusiasm still. "Can you...um...summon? Is that the right word? _Summon_ your soul?"

The skeleton gave a sigh and a breath, gathering his rattled nerves before nodding. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the part of him that was hidden. He felt the warmth and glow of his soul as it activated, and then the pure vulnerability as it fazed from his chest to hover before him. He had always hated that feeling.

Hornbern gave a slight gasp in surprise, despite the fact that he had known what was supposed to happen. "That is...It's...I have read of this...but I have never witnessed it."

Sans gave a dry chuckle, slightly strained. "That's 'cause we don't just pop our souls in and out at every beck and call. You think you can hurry this up, professor? I...I'm a little worn out, and I can't keep this up for long."

"Oh. Sorry. Of course."

The professor lifted up the scanner before carefully holding it up to the pale, white, inverted heart. He was too far from it at first, having to step a little closer before the scanner lit up in recognition of its subject. It gave a hum, glowing all the brighter on its makeshift screen when Sans' soul brightened in kind. Hornbern shifted his feet, as though bracing himself against what he was doing, sending a quick glance at the monster's face.

"You alright?"

Sans gritted his teeth. It didn't exactly hurt, but he _was_ trying to fight against his own instinct to hide his soul away, and that was taxing. "Fine. Fine, just fine. Are we almost finished?"

Hornbern licked his lips nervously, glancing back down at the device, sensing that Sans was in more discomfort than the skeleton was letting on. "Almost...Just a second or so more...There."

The skeleton called back his soul far quicker than he had brought it out, sighing in relief when it had disappeared back where it belonged. It still felt terribly exposed; its imprint still recorded on the device held in a human's hand before him.

Professor Hornbern was studying the readings with a curious frown, his excitement over his findings now exceeding his observations of Sans. He quirked an eyebrow at the high power level that the device indicated, but then frowned deeply.

"You have an HP of one?"

There it was. Sans had been reluctant to go through with the stats reading for that very purpose, among other things. He didn't exactly like the prospect of advertising his biggest weakness, especially to a world that could very easily turn against him at any moment. He had only entrusted Hornbern with the belief that he had no choice. And that still stood. But it didn't mean he had to be happy about it.

"Yes."

"...Isn't that...very low? For a monster?"

Sans tried not to let his annoyance show. "Yes."

Hornbern shook his head in bewilderment. "But that means all it would take to dust you would be-"

Sans felt his thin layer of patience break. "Yes, Yes," he snapped uncharacteristically. "All it would take is someone looking at me cross-eyed and I'd be dead. I know that, and now so do you. Hooray for us." He gave a tired sigh, closing his eyes for a moment to regain his composer. When he looked back up, Hornbern was giving him yet another look of pity. Or compassion. Whatever it was. Sans' anger morphed into an apologetic smile.

"Sorry. I just don't really like...people knowing."

The professor nodded slowly, looking at the readings again. "That is...understandable. But, please, I don't understand. How can you have such a low HP, and yet be capable of so much power? Your performance earlier today speaks of incredible reserves, and yet, according to this, you barely have any at all."

Sans shrugged. "Magic doesn't take up space. It doesn't really have any mass or volume. The reason why you can't determine it from inspecting a soul is because it only appears when initiated. Only when it's in use." The skeleton suddenly felt rather ill, exhaustion beginning to settle in. "Not to mention that I _used_ most of my reserves earlier..."

"Oop!" Hornbern helped steady Sans as the monster stumbled forward. "I'm sorry, we should not have tried this now. You're still weak. You should go home."

Sans gave a moan that he couldn't suppress. "Heh. Home's a long way from here, bud."

"Well, how did you get here?"

"Magic." Sans gave him a tired, side smile.

Hornbern frowned, knowing what the skeleton was thinking. "And now you can't get back. Not enough magic."

"You got it."

The professor frowned, feeling more and more of the monster's weight, slight as it was, relying on his hold. "And it's too far to walk," he concluded. "Very well." He reached forward to his desk, taking up a ring of keys. "Come on, then. I'll give you a ride."

"A...ride?" Sans realized he was really starting to fall out of focus. Man, that was awful fast. All he wanted to do was to sleep.

"Yes, Sans." Hornbern helped the skeleton back to his feet so the monster could walk, a hand still holding fast in case he fell. "In my car. I'm not letting you walk all that way in the middle of the night in your condition. Not to mention, again, that the police would not be happy if they found you wandering the streets."

"...M-Makes sense..."

"Good. Then come along."

To say that the trip back up through the many halls of the Institute was pleasent or easy would have been a lie. Sans was in an almost drunken state, at least as far as his inability to stand or walk without at least a little assistance. He had no idea where he was headed, and relied completely on Hornbern's guiding hand.

They had to duck out of sight once or twice, coming across a few night-time strollers on the way to the parking lot where Hornbern's black car was parked. It was hard to see it in the dark, and Sans didn't even truly notive it until the professor was placing his bony hands against its smooth surface. Before long, Hornbern had helped him into the front seat, got in himself, and they were off.

Cars were still something Sans wasn't used to. The short time Papyrus had owned one, Sans had only riden in it a total of maybe three times; possibly four. The speed of the street machines was unnerving, and the fact that he had once almost been hit b one had not strengthened his ease around them. But now, exhausted magically, mentally, and physically, Sans sank into the cushioned seat of the professor's chair. The sound of the world flying past, mixed with the soothing feel of the air conditioner blowing on him from the car's various vents, put him to sleep almost instantly.

It seemed like only a moment later that someone was shaking his arm.

"Sans...Hey. Wake up." Hornbern's voice was gentle and hushed.

Sans slowly sat up a little, blinking blearily. He felt a little better, having napped the whole ride, but only marginally. "...Nnnyeah? Wassup?" he slurred.

Hornbern chuckled. "You're home."

"M'home?" Sans blinked again. He looked out the window, seeing the sillohette of Redemption outlined by moonlight not far from them. He gathered himself, snapping out of his daze. "...Right." He started unbuckling his seatbelt, preparing to get out of the car,

"Sorry I couldn't get you closer," Hornbern apologized. "I figured you'd rather not have anyone notice you gettong back."

"Yeah. Thanks." And Sans meant it. From the looks of the house's dark windows, he guessed that his friends and brother had gone to bed. Good. That meant they hadn't missed him. He wasn't sure whether he should feel relieved or bitter.

Hornbern unlocked the lock with a click, the little tab on Sans' side of the door popping up. "Think you can make it?"

Sans gave him a smile. "Yep. Thanks, bud."

"You're welcome." Hornbern suddenly gripped the sleeve of his jacket, stopping the skeleton as he opened the car door. Sans startled at the action. "Um, hey, when do you want to continue our...study?"

At the moment, the thought of eaven walking the short distance to his bed made Sans want to curl up and die. He was so tired. But he sighed, rubbing a hand against the side of his head in a frail, exhausted motion. "It'll take a few days for my magic to be back up to par." He shrugged. "Wednesday?"

Hornbern seemed pleased. He nodded in confirmation. "Wednesday."

"See ya then?"

"Most assuredly."

" 'K then. Bye."

Sans opened the car door the rest of the way, slipping out of Hornbern's now slack grip. He closed the door quietly, not wanting the sound to awaken anyone in the house. He was a little wobbly on his feet, but he knew he could managed. He gave Hornbern a thumbs up, waiting until the professor's car had disappeared into the night. He sighed, turning back to face his home, which suddenly seemed so very far away.

By the time he made it inside, he was too tired to make it up the stairs to his room. He fell asleep, drapped across the cushions of the couch in the living room. No one had been awake, just as he had figured, and for that he was grateful.


	9. Not So Rearing To Go

Hot. _Everything within him burned. It was like fire...No, ice...Cold? Could cold burn? Could it tingle and sting as it wracked its way through someone's system? Apparently it could. It raged through his very marrow, ripped through every inch of him, feeling as though the bones themselves might cave in on themselves. Freezing. Why was it so cold?_

_'Please...make it...stop...'_

_But he knows it won't. It never has. Even back...then. When? He can't remember. But the torturous memories, faint though they are, will last forever. Ghosting jolts of pain, the sound of his own screams ringing out around him; begging to be set free. Hopeless fear and pain. Agony. Why? Why?!_

_There is a threatening presence, close, but unseen. He can sense it leering at him, smiling cruelly through a cracked, misshapen mouth. It's too dark to see. He can't even defend himself against the foe he knows is there. The one he knows is there but cannot name. There is no name, only the memory that there must be one, and then static._

_He knows this place. It's cold, grey walls. Its fearful shadows and dim lights. It's called...It's called...It's..._

_Why can't he remember?_

_He wants to remember._

_And yet...he doesn't. As though he knows the memories would be too much to handle._

_To much to live with._

_A shadow looms from behind, and he whips around to face it, letting out a choked gasp. The shape is so tall, dwarfing him, making it so apparent who is in control that there's almost no use in fighting. He can't even if he wanted to. And he does want to. He wants to defend himself, but no magic comes at his call. It's as though he never had it to begin with, and he feels empty. An overwhelming sense of claustrophobia washes over him, his mind practically seizing when nothing comes to his defense. He can't breathe. He's suffocating in his own fear. That hideous face, cracked and soulless eyes staring-What is it?! Oh, gods, what is it?!- it leans down to his level, disgusting mouth twisted in a grin._

_Then, before he can react, a hand stretches out at an alarming speed, detached, and grips his wrist with a frightening strength. He tries to pull away, but it holds him fast. A dark shadow starts to grow out from the hand, slowly spreading over his own bones, and he panics. The darkness and cold are taking over. With every inch he feels less of himself and more of the pain. It's dragging him under._

_With that thought, something within him snaps, like a line being cut through. Some strength, driven by desperation, courses through him, and, with a cry, he kicks out with a leg. He hits his mark, but the creature doesn't let go. It merely smiles in triumph..._

_...before dragging him under completely..._

* * *

Sans wasn't even sure when he crossed over from sleep into wakefulness. It did't really matter, because the result was the same; he was panicked. His soul was pulsing at a painful rate, his bones covered in sweat as the sound of his own, ragged breathing filled his head like a wind tunnel. He was gasping, choking because he was trying to bring in more air than he was currently able to, and that only succeeded in making him panic more.

A hand, cold and firm, all at once wrapping around his wrist was all it took to push Sans over the edge. With a cry of mixed pain and terror, he kicked out, heel first, just like he had in what he desperately was praying was a dream, even though it felt so, so like reality. His foot connected solidly with something, sending a jolt up into his hip, and causing someone to release a very surprised shout.

"UNGH! Agh, for Asgore's sake, Sans, will ya _chill!_ "

The voice, familiar, though not in a way he particularly welcomed at the moment, broke the spell that had come over him. Still huffing and shivering, Sans opened his eyes to stare up at a ceiling, bleached white and sporting a ceiling light and fan. The fan wasn't on, and he felt mildly disappointed at not having the whirling contraption as an available distraction. It was a ceiling he knew, at least. He had memorized those hairline cracks and chipped paint shamelessly.

Before he could fully calm himself down, that same someone snatched up his wrist again, pulling him up into a sitting position, in a motion that made him groan and shut his eyes. The action, he felt, was unnecessarily rough, which meant it could only be one person.

Undyne.

" _Unh._..just... _wait_..."

His tone was somewhat pleading, and maybe that was the only thing working in his favor. Whatever the reason, he was glad when the hand released him a little, still holding him up, but no longer pulling insistently. The fish-like monster's grip was firm, as though she were afraid he'd run off or disappear. Which, in all truth, if Sans had had the strength, he might have tried.

The skeleton took a few breaths, finally managing to slow his intake of air to something more reasonable and less painful. The ragged breathing became a little softer in his aching skull, alleviating that strange, half-conscious feel from his bones. Then, and only then, did he open his eyes and look up, squinting sleepily.

He had been right. It was Undyne; looking her usual, forceful self. She was bent over him, over the couch, one hand perched crankily on her hip and the other wrapped tightly around his humerus. He mentally snickered at all the jokes that opened to his disposal, but didn't utter a single one. Undyne did not look like she was in the mood.

When he opened his eyes, she finally released him, standing up straight to cross her arms over her chest. Her gaze was cold and displeased, and Sans quickly ascertained that she was still miffed about the day before. But of course she was. And, with a wave of guilt, Sans realized he couldn't really blame her.

"Uh...Undyne?"

Her standing over him was stating to make him nervous. If he was honest with himself, he would have admitted that he was still pretty on edge since the incident at the Institute. His nerves, or more like the ones he didn't have, were frayed, and he seriously wasn't sure how long he'd last with Undyne standing over him like a vulture. Much like his brother, Undyne was not always aware of the concept of personal space. Sans instinctively brought his legs under him, sitting Indian style to give as much space between them as possible. The motion probably betrayed his unusual unease.

"Good. At least you know that much," she huffed, continuing to watch him intently. She kept glancing at his left eye socket, and Sans slowly became much more self-conscious than he normally would. The hand she had been holding his wrist with was now rubbing at her stomach, and Sans thought he saw her wince. Not much, but a little. Sans had always been good at catching small details.

The numb tingling in his foot, plus the fact that the captain seemed visibly sore, finally clicked in Sans' muffled brain. He suddenly wanted very much just to fall back to sleep and pretend he didn't exist. Maybe never wake up again. "Did...Uh...Undyne, did I kick you?"

"That makes twice in a week you've landed me a hit, punk," she hissed with a glare. She gave her gut a final massage before she returned to her original stance. While her tone was stern and displeased, her voice was not its usual yelling volume. With a slight jolt of realization, Sans turned a bit to look at the clock on the coffee table.

_5:15_

He groaned.

"Nnnn, it's early...Like, _really_ early. People just don't get up at this hour." And he actually had the nerve to slump back against the couch, closing his eyes. But that didn't last long.

Undyne, with a snarl of annoyance, lurched forward to grab his wrists, pulling him right up off the couch and onto his feet. She didn't expect his knees to buckle.

"Whoa..." He felt like the room was spinning.

Undyne seemed startled by his sudden loss of balance, her touch becoming gentle and steadying for only a moment, until he was alright, before becoming rough and firm once again.

"I'll tell you who gets up at this hour, bonehead," she growled. "The police."

Sans stilled, his gaze giving away his concern when he looked up at her with a start. "The...police?"

"Yeah. They called a few minutes ago."

"What for?"

"They want me to bring you down to the station."

That was right. Undyne was all that was standing between him and the authorities. If they wanted to see him, their only source of communication was her. Well, she certainly was the woman for the job. Sans supposed Undyne had both the will power and the authority to drag him into the city, even against his will. His magic was still far to weak to make use of a shortcut, which left him with no way to dodge her attempts.

"Why?" he stressed, his own seriousness surfacing.

Undyne lifted a hand to scratch the back of her neck. It was the first non-aggressive movement she had made so far, and Sans, for the first time that morning, thought he detected a little anxiety in her tone.

"They just want to ask you some questions. Their investigating what happened yesterday and they can't do that without you."

"But I don't know any more than they do," Sans insisted, his distaste about the whole idea very evident.

Undyne rolled her eyes. "Big deal. Humans are stupid," was all she said. She paused, seeming to struggle with something, before she allowed herself to relax marginally. Which meant she still looked stiff as heck. She stared at him a moment, until the silence became unbearable, before she glanced slightly to the side, not looking him in the eyes.

"How you feeling?"

Her tone was all business, as though she were asking merely because it was her job. Which, it wasn't. So that threw that facade out the window. Her stance was practically rigid; angry if Sans didn't know her better. He realized, with a slight sense of surprise, that she might actually be worried about him. Something in the way she wouldn't meet his gaze. She was just good at hiding it. Hiding it _really_ well. Sans had always considered himself to be a good actor, at least before coming to the Surface. He had always managed to fool everyone into believing he was fine, and that his life wasn't falling apart. He just hadn't been expecting any of his friends to match him in that skill. Or even surpass him.

Sans considered downplaying how he felt, which, honestly, wasn't all that good. His very bones were sore and aching, feeling as though he were about to dust all over their couch. He quickly pushed that thought away, knowing he was overreacting. As much as he hated to admit his condition, he was really not in the mood to lie.

"Weak."

"Yeah. I figured as much." She scratched the back of her neck again, in a manner that almost seemed nervous, though that couldn't be right. "You're gonna need something to replenish all the magic you lost yesterday, you know."

He nodded slowly, wondering where she was headed with this. He half expected her to suddenly yell at him to go to the kitchen and fix himself a sandwich. The thought almost made him sick. The thought of _moving_ made him feel sick. He was so tired. "I know."

Undyne cocked her head ever so slightly at him, with Sans only staring back in response like some sort of half-brained zombie. He really didn't look all that well. He was still shaking, enough so that Undyne could see it. He was sweating, somehow managing to look paler than normal, even for a skeleton. Undyne felt the slightest pang of guilt, feeling that she should have been easier on him the night before, no matter how angry she might have been. Not that she'd ever admit that out loud. She wasn't the 'asking for forgiveness' type, her pride downright refusing to lower herself a single notch. But if was an emotion she felt she had to convey...somehow.

Coming to a decision, she dug into her pocket, pulling out a terribly flat and crumbly candy bar, the kind that's name always reminded Sans of the night sky. She grimaced at its condition, but held it out to him anyway. The motion was stiff and hurried.

"Hfft. Got a little mutilated when you slugged me, but it should do the trick." She paused, frowning when all he did was blink at her in surprise. She turned an interesting shade of pink before it disappeared; replaced by a frown and a growl. Reaching for his hand, and feeling a little unnerved when he flinched, Undyne turned it palm up and slapped the treat into it. "It's not gonna bite you! Eat it, ya bonehead!"

Sans nodded even more slowly, taking the treat almost cautiously. Like he expected it to hurt him in some way. Which wasn't quite the reasoning behind his actions. He wasn't so worried about the candy as he was the hand that was holding it. Sans had always been very good at judging peoples moods and manners; and the feeling he was sensing from Undyne made him want to be extra careful not to make her any more mad than she already was. She was edgy, probably because she was frustrated with herself for showing any kindness toward him at all. She wanted to still be mad, but she wasn't able to keep that mindset for eternity. Which made her...irritable.

When he had gently slid it out of Undyne's grip without receiving any form of physical abuse, Sans pulled the candy back to himself, shoulders relaxing a little. Undyne might still be upset about the day before, but she wasn't going to hurt him, and that was a plus. Not that she'd ever do so...to a large extent.

Sans opened the wrapper, taking a small bite to appease the monster watching him pointedly. Sans felt his diminished magic return to the smallest degree, barely noticeable, though it did ease some of his discomfort. At least the room had stopped spinning. He had forgotten how little he had eaten in the last three days. He couldn't remember the last full meal he had had, which, now that he thought of it, was rather disconcerting. He still felt sick and fuzzy-skulled, but a brutal twinge of hunger actually prompted him to eat the candy with a wave of gratefulness.

As he ate, Undyne stood before the couch, arms crossed again and watching him intently. Sans wasn't sure what she was thinking, but he was certain he didn't like the attention. He was used to being the one on the outskirts of everything, not the center of attention. Which was exactly what he had become since yesterday afternoon.

"I heard ya, you know, moanin' and stuff," Undyne began slowly, gauging his reaction. "Could hear ya from the kitchen. Another nightmare?"

Sans blanched ever so slightly, focusing on the last few bites of the bar. "...Yeah."

Undyne rubbed her stomach once again, humming in thought. "Mmm. Figured." She paused, before giving a frustrated grunt. "Listen. About last night..."

Sans held his breath, wondering if he had misjudged the fish-like monster. Maybe she did know how to apologize.

"I still think what happened was bad. And as far as you and me go, you're still not off the hook."

Welp. Guess not. Undyne _never_ apologized. Not to anyone. _Especially_ him.

"But that doesn't mean I'm condemning you," she added, almost like she was extending him grace. "I mean, we are...friends. Right?"

Of course they were. Family really, though Sans realized he'd never expressed that he felt that way. Undyne was closer to Papyrus and Alphys than him. He was more of the tag-along friend; a shadow that was always there but everyone would probably do just fine without. He wasn't even sure what Undyne's idea of a friend was. Someone who did stuff with her, like cook or train? That was Paps all over, but certainly not Sans. He couldn't remember ever cooking in his life, though he supposed he must have when he and Papyrus were younger. He couldn't remember. And he was pretty sure he'd never trained before. He didn't need to. the amount of power he held, whether people knew it or not, was extensive. Chara had faced it many times.

And it wasn't like Sans liked the same kind of shows Undyne liked. That was Alphys. But if Undyne was willing to consider him a friend, whatever that might entail, than Sans was willing to agree to the terms. Because, regardless of what she might think of him, she _was_ his friend.

Sans nodded in agreement.

"I mean, you couldn't help it," Undyne shrugged, not meeting his gaze. "And no one can really pin the blame on you for that." She grit her teeth. "But I can't just let what happened yesterday slide."

"I know." Sans' voice was small.

"This is a big problem. And a lot of bad stuff is going to come out of it."

"I know." Sans hoped Professor Hornbern's plan would work. He wasn't sure he could face this whole fiasco on his own.

"And I'm still mad at you."

"I _know_."

Undyne glanced at him, frowning, before continuing. "Alphys said last night that she'd like to do a few tests on you. Make sure you're alright. She was really worried last night. They all were. Then you and I are takin' a little trip downtown to Police Headquarters."

Sans visibly tensed.

Undyne paused, somehow able to read the barely palpable fear in the skeleton's face, responding with far more kindness than she was used to. "I won't let them keep you, Sans. You have my word on it. We'll go in together, and we'll leave together."

There was a beat, in which Undyne was not really quite sure how Sans was going to react. Sans' himself wasn't quite sure himself. They just sat in silence a moment, one waiting with surprising patience while the other tried to decide which emotion to shove behind his figurative walls first.

Sans allowed his usual, lazy grin to slide into place, squinting up at Undyne carelessly. "Where are the others?" he asked, artfully dodging the situation altogether.

"Still asleep." Undyne narrowed her eye, knowing he was try to avoid the subject. "They're pretty worn out, thanks to your little meltdown." It was meant as a biting tease, but it really only accomplished the biting part. Sans quite visibly winced. Again. She was really starting to hate that; it nicked at her soul and made her feel a little ill, knowing that she had caused it. She watched him as he struggled past yet another wave of submerged feelings.

"That'd be my fault, I guess. Heh." He ran a hand down the side of his face, sending the fish-like monster a side glance before turning to her fully. "Don't worry. I won't cause any trouble. Not that I could even if I wanted to. Your friends the police have nothing to fear from me. They can ask all the questions they like."

Undyne snorted. "Yeah, but will you answer them?" It was a question she didn't expect an answer to, and she wasn't disappointed. Sans quickly changed the subject yet again. Undyne had never really realized how good he was at that.

"Why'd you wake me up so early?"

"Well, for one, you where making all those pitiful noises when I came down here to answer the phone. That nightmare must have been a heck of a thing."

Sans nodded weakly. "And secondly?"

"Secondly, I thought maybe we could have Alphys check you out earlier than later. While we still have plenty of time before going down to the station. In case she...you know. Finds something important."

She shrugged like it didn't really matter, but Sans knew what she was thinking. She was hoping, in some strange, twisted way, that they would find something. Because then, there would be something to blame. Something to blame besides him.

"Figured you'd rather get that over with as soon as possible," she finished.

Sans did, and he didn't. He did want to get it over with, that much was true. But, once more, he found himself with a keen sense of fear at the prospect of heading back down into his friend's lab. _Any_ lab. But he wasn't going to be able to explain that to Undyne. He wasn't even sure if he knew the reason. And so, that smile still pasted on his still pale face, Sans gave his answer without hesitation.

"Sure." Then he chuckled. "But, ah, didn't you say everyone's still asleep? That includes Alphys, right?" He could only hope.

A mischievous, toothy grin flashed across Undyne's expression, filled with mirthful glee. Her eyes held a sparkle that seemed rather dangerous in the dim, morning light.

"Not for long."

Alphys was not a morning person; not like Undyne or Papyrus. That was yet another thing she held in common with Sans. She preferred staying up late, watching anime and reading through her various science notes. Once in a while, Sans would join her, sharing her love of the sciences to a degree that often made her wonder. She sometimes got the feeling that there was some sort of connection between them when they worked together. Like it was right or common, even though she could not remembering ever doing so with him before moving to the Surface.

But it was a strange sense that she always shoved to the side. It didn't really matter, after all. A lot of stuff that happened in the Underground no longer mattered. They made it to the world above with a clean slate, and, for that, Alphys couldn't have been more grateful.

But, again, she was not a morning person. And, standing there in her pajamas, eyes still darkened by interrupted sleep, she looked the very image of what she so reassuringly referred to as a zombie. She blinked wearily at her instruments in the lab, taking far longer than normal to locate the tool she was looking for, accidentally knowing a few others over noisily in the process.

"Um...You know, Al...we can wait until you're a little more awake."

Undyne gave the skeleton a roll of her one good eye. "Oh, come on. She's fine!"

Alphys sent her friend a rare glare. She was not pleased about getting up early on a normal basis, but Undyne's method of practically tossing her out of bed and onto the floor had not been a pleasant experience. She could feel the bruises on her hip still forming. She knew it was just Undyne's way to play rough, but it was not appreciated by all. Especially at six forty-six in the morning.

But, instead of saying anything about it, the yellowed monster instead turned her attention to Sans. He was sitting up on the examination table, looking exceedingly tense and rigid, despite the smile he had pasted on his face. His hands, clanking rhythmically, fidgeted in his lap distractedly.

"Alright." Alphys positioned herself in front of him, giving him a tired smile. "You can relax, Sans. You've seen this before, remember?"

She held up the soul scanner, the same one she had used on him a few nights prior. Sans blatantly refused to dwell on the fact that she wasn't the only one. As she fiddled with the instrument, Sans started to gather his magic, preparing to summon his soul. The action was proving to be a little harder than normal, on account of him not really wanting to do so at all. And an uncomfortable ache had started to settle in his chest, though he couldn't remember just when it had started.

"S-Sans? What are you doing?"

He looked up sharply, blinking into Alphys' confused face. "I'm..."

"Are you trying t-to summon your soul?!" she practically squeaked, and Sans suddenly wondered what he had done wrong. "No, no no no! Sans, you're t-too weak for that still!"

Oh. So that was it. He thought back with a wince to the night before, to the rather painful process of summoning his soul for Hornbern, for an extended time, small as it was. Alphys, he had a feeling, would have been mortified if she knew.

"And besides," the scientist continued, a little more calmly. "You don't have to summon your soul for this. Don't you remember the other night how we did this?"

That snapped Sans' mind, which up to that point had still felt a little hazed, to full attention. He sifted back through his somewhat dull memories of the night he had passed out at the table, trying to pick apart his thoughts of panic and fear from what had actually happened that night. He remembered waking up in the lab, and everyone being there to help him. He remembered Alphys trying to take a scan, but his fear and anxiety making it rather difficult. But she _had_ taken a reading, and, now that he thought about it, there had been no soul summoning that he could recall.

That was a relief...and a concern.

Shouldn't Hornbern of known that revealing his soul wasn't necessary? Somehow, Sans felt he should have. Not that it really mattered. No harm done. Just a little uneasiness on his part. Still...Sans decided that he would bring the subject up to the professor on Wednesday.

"Oh. Yeah, that's right," the skeleton eased into a pseudo smile. "I'd forgotten. S'okey, Alph, go ahead." Even though all he wanted to do was cringe away and stay hidden forever.

Alphys frowned, but nodded. "Here, how about we save your soul for last." She set the scanner down on the counter. "I'm going to do a full checkup on you. After what happened yesterday...Well, you can never be too c-careful."

Alphys did a few slight tests first, mostly checking his balance and overall physical strength. She was slightly worried by how shaky he still seemed to be, but that was easily explained. Toriel had said he had eaten very little in the last two or so odd days, and that he had actually had a full meal in at least that much. Undyne, as Alphys had been told, had given him a candy bar, but it would take time for the food to replenish his energy that he had lost at the Negotiations.

The young scientist berated herself in frustration, knowing that this checkup probably shouldn't have waited until morning. Sans could have been in serious danger of falling the night before, after using so much of his reserves, but the high running emotions of the previous night, along with Sans locking himself in his room, had made that pretty much impossible. Alphys had kept that matter to herself, and had been very relieved to know that Sans was still able to stand, at least, by morning.

Alphys checked over all of his major bone structures; all the ones she felt comfortable doing, making sure that the strain of his magic attack had not damaged anything important. It hadn't, though one of his femurs seemed a little tender, and the humerus of his right arm, the one he always used for magic, was sore enough to make him flinch when she touched it.

Sans, of course, had several jokes on that.

Finally, when everything else seemed to have checked out just fine, Alphys appeared at the skeleton's side with the same scanning device she had used on him a few days before. She moved slowly, and kept a hand on his shoulder; having learned from the last scan she had done that Sans could be a little jumpier than she had first anticipated.

For the third time in a week, Sans found himself sitting or standing before an individual wielding one of those confounded scanners. He was starting to get sick of the sight of them, feeling unnerved by their smooth edge and supposedly helpful purpose. His apprehension of the lab had grown mysteriously stronger, making the whole experience even more uncomfortable, though Sans found he was far better at hiding it this time.

She placed the scanner over his soul, reminding him that, when she started, his soul would activate. Sans seemed noticeably more reluctant this time, appearing tense and uneasy, of which Alphys took due note. But he still nodded, giving her permission. With a nod of her own, Alphys flicked on the switch to start the process.

"Ah!"

Sans' cry of pain made the yellow monster stumble back, a hundred apologies spilling from her as she set the scanner down on a nearby tray and moved to try and help him. Undyne too seemed startled, stepping forward but looking exceptionally helpless. Sans folded up, staying in that position for a solid thirty seconds, a hand clutching over his soul hard enough to bunch up the fabric of his shirt. He took several breaths, slow and uncertain, with his eyes clenched shut against the discomfort he felt. Alphys and Undyne tried to get an answer from him; tried to find out what was hurting him, but all he could do at the moment was ride out the pain. Finally, after several tense moments, the skeleton looked up at his friends' concerned faces, giving both a strained, lopsided grin. One that looked considerably more like a grimace.

" _Nnnn_...Ow?"

"Oh, gosh, Sans! I-I'm so s-sorry! I didn't m-m-mean for it t-to hurt!" It wasn't supposed to hurt. It was just a simple scanning device. "Are y-you alright?!" Alphys flitted around him in agitation, running her fingers up and down his arms in a severely worried manner, more as a comforting gesture for herself rather than for him.

The skeleton rubbed ruefully at his chest, right above his soul, his expression annoyed and slightly embarrassed. "Heh...Guess I'm just a little sore." That was an understatement and he knew it. His soul activating had felt like fire coursing through him. Not all that unlike the dream he had awoken from about an hour ago. Though he wasn't too keen on thinking about that. He knew what Alphys was going to ask even before she said it.

"But...w-why would your soul be sore?"

And that was a question he couldn't answer. He had a few ideas, of course. One being the whole losing control of his magic fiasco. The other being his nighttime teleport to the Institute, and the summoning of his soul while in the professor's office. Both where rather draining practices in and of themselves, but mixed in with his behavior in the Negotiations, it would certainly account for his sudden jolt of agony.

But he couldn't tell Alphys and Undyne that. If he did, he'd have to explain what he had been doing outside Redemption, along with telling them of the deal he had made with Hornbern. He had a feeling that his friends, Undyne especially, would not appreciate that in the least. It was also an unspoken understanding, Sans felt, between him and the professor, that their little talk should remain a secret between just the two of them.

And so, Sans did what he was good at.

He pasted on an even wider grin, and lied.

"Heh. Guess I used a lot more magic than I realized," he supplied. "That would explain it, wouldn't it?" He sincerely hoped it did. He seemed to remember that energy drain and 'soul clenches', a sort of soul-oriented cramp, were not all that uncommon with magic exhaustion. Of course, it had been years since he had...Since he had...

Huh. Since when had he ever known anything about souls and their workings?

Sans felt yet another wave of unease take him, and he shivered slightly, though, thankfully, not enough for anyone else besides himself to notice.

Alphys still looked worried, but at his explanation, she nodded slowly. "...Yes...Y-Yes, I suppose that could be it." She looked down at the scanner, which had thankfully managed to get a reading before Sans had fallen forward in pain. "According to this, it's just strained. The pain should go away in a few days."

_Great_. Sans hoped that by Wednesday he'd be back to his normal strength. For some reason, he didn't like the idea of walking in on Hornbern's tests already vulnerable.

"I can give you something for the pain, i-if you want? It's only a small shot-"

Sans shook his head. "No. No, thanks, Al...but I think I'll just let it heal on its own. I don't like needles or medicine." He chuckled, giving her a grin much more genuine. "Besides, I get the feeling injecting me with anything would prove in _vein_."

There was a beat, and Sans seriously wondered if they hadn't caught the pun, but then Alphys gave a very small giggle as Undyne gave a growl of frustration, and Sans knew that he had pulled it off. His friends were appeased for the moment. He had made it by the examination without being found out. And that was all he could really ask for at the moment.

"Alright, alright. Come on, bonehead," Undyne grouched. "Let's get back upstairs and get ready to head down to the station."

Oh. Right. Sans had almost forgotten about that.

The police were not his favorite people. In fact, Sans had never really cared much for authorities of any kind, even back in the Underground. Oh, he hadn't caused them any trouble, and he certainly never did anything to show his dislike, but Sans' lazy demeanor had surly been an annoyance to them. And by _them_ he naturally meant Undyne.

The only reason he had ever had any association with the fish-like monster in the first place was because of Papyrus. His undying love for the Royal Guard had brought a lot of acquaintances into the skeleton brothers' lives, Undyne included. But it hadn't been until Frisk's arrival in the Underground that Sans had really given the captain a second thought. Not until the timelines had started and she had...died.

When you see people die, you gain a whole new perspective on them. You see what the world is like without them, and realize that each life is so much a part of the world as a whole, that just one missing piece shatters life like glass. So it had been with Undyne. So it had been with everyone.

That was when Sans had started to care, even though he had hidden it behind a tight smile. And it was a relief when the timelines had finally stopped so that he could truly move forward and take a step in becoming her friend, instead of just an acquaintance.

Sans slid down off of Alphys lab table, landing a little unsteadily, but a heck of a lot more steadily than before. "Sure," was all he said in answer, following the captain up the basement steps, giving Alphys a grateful wave as they left.

* * *

The kitchen smelt like warm pancakes and syrup, the aroma filling every inch of Redemption's interior. Toriel, apron tied about her front, hummed softly as she worked the little round cakes in the pan.

Frisk, dressed and pressed for school, sat at the table, legs kicking in anticipation of one of her favorite meals.

Sunlight was pouring through the window, lace patterns yet again cast against the wood of the table. Birds were singing outside, flitting by the window from time to time in fowl-like joy.

When the old, wooden door leading from the basement to the kitchen swung open unexpectedly, Toriel startled, flipping a pancake skillfully without even trying. Her startlement quickly turned into a caring glow as Undyne and Sans stepped out onto the tiled floor, blinking in the natural light.

"Well, good morning you two," she greeted, her eyes lingering on Sans a moment longer before flitting back up to Undyne. There was still a hint of worry in her gaze, and Sans found himself purposefully ignoring it. Rather guiltily.

"Mornin'," Undyne chirped gruffly. She waited for Sans to make it up the last step of the basement before closing the door. He always seemed to take them one slow step at a time. But her annoyance was distracted by the smell that weaved through her senses. Her eyes widened at the aroma lingering about the house, nostrils twitching. "Smells good in here! _SNIFF!_ Like a bakery!"

Not that Undyne had ever set foot in one.

Toriel smiled at the fish-like monster's exclamation. "You may have some if you so wish."

"Mmnnn...Naw. That's fine." She moved forward into the kitchen, reaching out and surprising Sans by placing her hand against his back and guiding him in beside her. "Think you can keep an eye on this bonehead while I go and get a few things?" Toriel probably nodded, though a hint of confusion made the expression odd and unnatural.

"Yes?"

"Good. Be right back. Don't run off anywhere, punk." And with that, Undyne the Undying headed off into the house to see to her own purposes.

Sans took that as his turn to take the stage. His turn to smile as though nothing were wrong in the least. His turn to hope that no one he cared for could see just how pained, frightened, and guilty he really felt.

"Morn'n, Tori," he greeted, ruffling Frisk's hair as he passed her chair to take a seat in his own, usual spot. "School today?" That was right. It was Tuesday, wasn't it? Having Frisk home of Monday had messed up his whole perception of the week.

Frisk beamed, though her disappointment in it no longer being the weekend was clear on her little face. "Yup. Mom says she's prolonging the due date for our weekend paper because of everything that...happened..." She paused, her smile dimming. "How...How are you feeling today?"

Sans scratched the back of his skull, giving a shrug. "Not great," he answered truthfully. But when Frisk's smile dropped even more, he quickly added. "But a lot better than before."

There was a long silence, in which the only sounds were the sizzling of the pancakes and the twitters of the birds outside. Sans felt his anxiety grow with the uneasiness he could sense all around him. The others were trying to push what had happened the day before out of their minds, whether for his sake or theirs, he couldn't tell. It wasn't helping. Acting like nothing was wrong didn't make it go away.

Heh. Even though that was basically the story of Sans' life. How many times had he pretended everything was fine, when it most certainly wasn't. In fact, Sans could no longer remember a time in which he hadn't.

"Listen, guys," he ended up saying slowly, uncertainly. "You don't have to...hide how you feel from me." He gave a tired smile. "You're all terrible liars anyway."

Toriel made a sound that sounded something like a choked sob, though, when she turned, spatula in hand, there were no tears on her face. Only an expression of loving care and worry.

"We know," she asserted gently. "But we do not wish for...We want everything to be alright with you, my friend."

She placed her cooking tool down upon the table as she neared, moving to lay the back of her paw against the skeleton's forehead. Sans, to his credit, let her. He was too worn out to resist. Toriel frowned.

"You are warm."

"Yeah." Sans had figured that. Though he wasn't feeling too poorly, which must mean the fever was only low grade. Toriel's hand, furry as it was, felt cool and relieving against his skull.

Toriel didn't seem satisfied with that answer, but left it alone. She pulled away, looking him over carefully. "How _do_ you feel otherwise?" She stressed the word 'do', as though, for once, she could see right through his metaphorical mask.

He didn't even have to think about it. "Tired."

The goat-like monster laughed, and, just like that, some of the tension burned away. "When are you not?!" she cried in good humor, giving his shoulder a light pat. She moved back to her cooking, her voice returning to a more worried state. "But I'm afraid there is still much to be done about what happened yesterday."

Why did everyone feel the need to tell Sans that? Did they think he was incapable of coming to that conclusion himself? He knew he had goofed. He knew he was in trouble. He knew he had literally put them all in a very tough and dangerous situation. He _knew_. But, even though he almost wanted to yell out and tell Toriel that he already was aware of that fact, he held it in, giving only a grunt of agreement and a nod.

"Undyne and I are going down to speak to the police this morning," he added, so nonchalantly even he winced.

Toriel looked up, her spatula accidentally banging up against the pan and sending the sounding ring of metal against metal through the room. She blinked at him, her worry deepened. Even Frisk had become unusually still.

Undyne took that moment to return.

The fish-like monster bounced in, obviously draped in a very fake mask of cheerfulness. "Alright! As soon as I grab my bus pass, we can..." She trailed off, her smile fading as she literally walked into a wall of tense atmosphere. The silence and rigidity was so palpable, Toriel probably could have flipped it with her spatula. "Er...what's-?"

"Why did you not tell me?!" Toriel gushed out suddenly, cutting Undyne off. "Why did you not tell me the police had called Sans in?!"

Undyne threw her head back, releasing a sound of frustration. "Ungh! Please, your majesty, don't make this any harder than it needs to be. They just want to ask him a few questions."

Toriel blinked again, looking somehow offended, though not necessarily because of Undyne. It was as thought the world had neglected to tell her something she had a right to know. Her mouth hung open a moment, before she closed it in a thin line. Laying the spatula down, she reached behind her back, hurriedly untying the apron from around her waist.

"I'm coming too," she declared, throwing the article aside.

Undyne through her hands up in the air. "Look, I know this is hard, but-"

"I'm not letting Sans go into that place alone."

"He's not going to be alone!" Undyne shouted, freezing even Toriel in her tracks. "I'm going in with him! I won't leave his side!" She gave a grunt, folding her arms over her chest crankily. "What do you think I am, stupid? Those humans are going to be out for blood, and I wouldn't dream of letting them talk to Sans without me there to keep them in line."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," Sans muttered from the table.

"Shut up." Undyne sent him a glare. Turning back to Toriel, the fish-like monster continued her appeal. "Besides, I have strict orders to come with him alone. They don't want anyone else getting involved."

"But we're already involved," Frisk spoke up softly. She had gotten up from her chair at some point, moving closer to stand next to Sans, almost protectively. As though her small frame could do any more than slow someone down.

"I know that," Undyne answered, not unkindly. "And you know that, but, you see, the humans don't. As far as they're concerned, the only monster they want to get their hands on is Sans, with me as the buffer between them and him. Why do they trust me? Who the heck knows!"

"Well, you have been working with them for over a year now," Sans pointed out. "That's got to count for something. You must have gained their respect."

Undyne frowned, murmuring in a very bad temper. "Yeah. But they've just about lost mine." She straightened, turning and locking her gaze back on Sans. "So you ready or what? Come on; we're leaving."

Sans slowly slide off of his seat to stand once more, sending Frisk a somewhat apologetic glance as he followed Undyne out the door.

Frisk looked very worried.


	10. They Say They Have Flat Feet

Undyne, like most of those living at Redemption, did not have a driver's license. She had tried. Memorized the whole manual, taken practice tests; everything. She had added it on to her routine as though it were a part of her training. But, in the end, it had been all for nothing. Her driver's test had been, without a doubt, a disaster. It had taken two men to get her instructor to pull his nails out of the dashboard. Later, on his official license denial report, the guy had said she was a terror to all things with and without wheels, and that even if the world was inhabited by only one living thing, he wouldn't have granted her the privilege to drive. His list of reasons had included such words as reckless, speed demon, careless, hysteria, and had that been something about 'just asking for manslaughter'? Needless to say, Undyne had not passed.

She really hadn't been all that upset, surprisingly. In fact, she had taken it rather well. She merely shrugged, calling the instructor a sissy, and settled with buying a bus pass. Driving was overrated anyway, Papyrus could have told her that. He had his license, and nothing to drive. Of course, that had been his choice. This way, with the bus pass, she could still come and go as she pleased, but not terrorize the people of Ebott City by threatening their lives on a daily bases.

Win win.

Only that meant, much to Sans' annoyance, that they had to walk quite a distance of the dirty, sand road leading away from Redemption for over a mile before reaching the main route to the city. The bus stop wasn't far from where the dirt of their street met asphalt, which meant, in all, the two monsters had a one and _a half_ mile walk before they could even catch the bus to Ebott City. And that was seriously not something Sans felt like doing today.

"You're going too slow, bonehead!" Undyne called from up ahead. Her gait was quick and filled with purpose, while Sans lagged behind by several feet. He was sweating and looking genuinely tired, rather than just lazy. When he didn't answer, Undyne looked back, frowning at his obvious condition. "Ahh, shoot!"

Sans blinked as the captain was all at once crouched in front of him, a hand against his chest to keep him from taking any more steps.

"You can't make this, can you?"

Sans gave a shrug, trying not to channel his exhaustion into the motion. "What does it matter? I haven't got much of a choice."

At that, Sans thought he detected the smallest of twinges of guilt in Undyne's face. She stood up straight, looking down at him before looking around them, scratching her neck. Sans waited for her to come to the same conclusion he had; that he simply wasn't up for a mile and a half hike. He was still pretty badly drained. At this rate, he wouldn't even be able to answer questions at the police station when he got there. He'd probably be catatonic.

Not realizing he had zoned out a bit, Sans startled when he found himself being picked up off the ground. He gave a grunt of surprise, and maybe annoyance, not really sure what was going on until Undyne settled his slight weight onto her back.

Sans blinked, latching on instinctively. "You're...carrying me?"

"Well, it's the only way to get your lazy butt to the station on time," the fish-monster snapped, obviously irritated. "Otherwise it'll be winter before we even set foot in the police chief's office!" She gave a huff, starting off at a jog, with Sans clinging to her far harder than she would have liked. "Besides. Papyrus would never forgive me if you passed out from exhaustion."

Right. Papyrus. Sans' brother had not been thrilled about the trip in the first place. As the duo had started out of the door, Papyrus had come barreling out after them, declaring to the world that he did not approve of the humans 'interrogating' his brother. Heh. Pap watched way too many of those old, human cop movies. He had this set impression that being called down to the station would be extremely taxing and unpleasant. Which, in all honesty, it probably would be. But that was beside the point. Sans wasn't going to dwell on the bad stuff of the future as long as he could get away with it. That was how he had always done it. Take it in stride; that was all he could do.

Too bad it didn't even come close to enough.

At least he didn't have to walk anymore...

* * *

The police station was everything Hollywood had made it out to be. Papyrus had watched enough old 'cop' and 'detective' movies, Sans keeping him company, for the small skeleton to appreciate how true the portrayal had been. Though, he had to admit it was a little more modern.

The minute he and Undyne walked through the heavy, glass doors the word of the day seemed to be pristine. Everything was spotless, cleaned to the point that everything looked brand new, even though the post outside the building had designated the buildings age to be far greater. It was filled with humans, men and women, dressed in uniform and bustling about all looking very serious and hurried. It gave Sans a sense of being an impostor; a wayward stranger who was in the way of every set of legs that moved past, around, and toward him. The skeleton instinctively followed at Undyne's heels, knowing from experience that she would clear a safe path for him. No one would dare stand in the way of the ex-captain of the Royal Guard.

Most of the humans didn't give them a second glance, going about there business as though there was't a pair of monsters walking through their midst. But a few, some of the younger cops and desk-men, gave smirks or glares in their direction. Mocking or spiteful; Sans knew either was dangerous. Those were the types of people who went out of their way to cause him and the other monsters trouble.

Undyne led them right up to a thick looking oak door on the far side of what appeared to be the main work area. It had a glass window on its upper half, the kind that is made so you can't really see through it, other than a bit of blobby movement from the other side. Undyne's fist pounded against the wood, not angry or violent, but certainly firm.

"Hey!" she called, and several humans looked up from their desks disaprovingly. "You in there or what, Frank?!"

There was a bit of shuffling and muttering from within the room, and then a shifting of dark color through the warped glass, before a voice called a loud, clear, "Come in."

Without a second of hesitation, Undyne grabbed the knob and pushed through, leading Sans by gripping the edge of his sleeve. It was as though she could sense his anxiety, and was afraid he'd disappear like he sometimes tended to. Sans, truthfully, hadn't even considered it; though the knowledge that even Undyne gripping him would not be able to stop him from doing so was strangely satisfying.

The room was warm and comfortable. The kind of office that you know the inhabitant has occupied for many years. Little touches of personal life dotted every corner of the place; pictures hung on the walls, some of a very lovely woman and others of a little boy, progressively getting older. Sans could only assume this was the man's family. A framed photograph on the desk before them showed that the little boy, obviously 'Frank''s son, had recently graduated from college.

Frank Delbenn himself was a lean, but short man. Not quite as tall as Undyne, but certainly taller than Sans. His hair was greying, especially on his sideburns and the upper part of his closely trimmed beard. His eyes were a warm brown, matching the color that his hair might have been in his younger years. He wore a policeman's uniform, decorated with a badge and a marking of his rank.

"Undyne," the man growled, but only half threateningly, "I thought I told you to treat that door a little more gently. I nearly spilled my cup of coffee all over my front!"

The fish-monster gave a grin, fully amused. "Sorry, Frank." though she obviously wasn't.

Frank stood, brushing down his uniform, despite the fact that there didn't appear to be anything on it. "Yes. Well..." His eyes suddenly landed on Sans, who had managed up until that point to remain almost invisible. He had always been good at that.

The human police chief cocked his head, all humor leaving his eyes as an air of seriousness replaced it. "Ah. I almost forgot. Thank you for bringing him." He stepped forward, out from behind his desk, coming to stand before Sans and offering his hand. "Mr. Sans, I assume?"

"Um...just Sans. Sans the skeleton." Sans readily shook the man's hand. The sooner he got on this guy's good side the better. The human's grip was firm, giving a solid shake before letting go. To his credit, he didn't shiver or recoil at the texture of the small, skeletal hand.

Frank nodded, stepping back to enable him to half sit on his back, arms crossed. "I appreciate you coming down here; especially so early in the morning."

Sans shrugged. "S'alright. I want to try and get this all cleared up."

"Mm. As do I." Frank pointed to a coffee machine on a counter in the corner of the room. "Can I get you anything? Coffee maybe?"

Sans shook his head. "Thanks, but no thanks. That stuff _goes right through me._ "

There was a brief moment, and then Frank gave a very soft chuckle. Not quite the reaction Sans had been hoping for, but better than most others he got at his puns. He was also vaguely aware of the death glare Undyne was giving him.

"Heheh. You're a funny little guy, aren't you?"

"I try."

"Yes, well," Frank's demeanor changed a bit. "I hope you will take this meeting seriously. This is no joking matter."

Sans _knew_ that. Why the heck did they think he was cracking jokes in the first place? It was the only way he knew of that relieved him of some of that tension coiling inside him. Of course, not everyone handles stress the same way. But he would have thought Undyne at least would understand.

Or not.

"I know that," the skeleton responded, and even Undyne was caught surprised by the pure sincerity and seriousness in that one, small statement. "I just want to fix what happened."

Frank shook his head, a hint of bitterness and disapproval creeping into his tone. "I'm not sure 'fix' is a word that applies here. But we certainly mean to understand. Are you willing to comply to an interrogation? It's more of an official talk, rather than a casual one here in my office."

That was what they were here for. Sans nodded.

Frank stood up from leaning against his desk. "Good. then we'll start. Come with me, please?"

The two monsters followed the human out of his office, Undyne looking decidedly more nervous than Sans liked. They walked further into the police station building, taking several halls and corridors until they came to yet another room, this one filled with many desks. All of which were occupied with busy humans all working on computers. Frank Delbenn walked by these, coming to a heavy looking door, which he paused at.

"I'm afraid you'll have to stay out here, Undyne."

That did not go over well. Sans felt very much in the middle as his friend and the police chief argued briefly, until Frank somehow managed to convince Undyne to comply, albeit grudgingly. She sent Sans a somewhat apologetic glance, doing little to help the skeleton's nerves. Frank opened the door, motioning for Sans to step through. It was not at all inviting. But Sans stepped inside the secluded room, sending a somewhat distressed look over his shoulder at Undyne as the door was shut, separating them. Sans couldn't help but notice that the fish-like monster had shared a similar expression.

Since when had he come to put so much reassurance in Undyne's presence?

Either way, now there was nothing standing between him and the human police chief. Other than a boring, decoration-less table in the center of a completely bare room. It was cold in there, feeling like a cellar or attic. And there was no sound. That was the most unsettling part. Not a noise, not a single note of the normal din that assaults one's ears on a daily basis, was heard. All the little things he had never really noticed were suddenly frighteningly absent; the sound of birds, or traffic, or the low murmuring of voices.

Here, it was absolutely silent.

Chief Delbenn moved to stand in front of the small, heavy-looking table. He crossed his arms, nodding with his head to the single chair. "Won't you take a seat?"

Sans knew this game. This game that everyone who had ever tried to make him do things he didn't want to always played. Flowey had played it. Chara had played it. The game of intimidation. Sans had even used it himself once or twice. Okay, maybe a thousand times, if one counted the resets; but it really had never suited him. In order to reach so low as to frighten someone on purpose, he had to be pretty stink'n mad.

He wasn't about to give in to the police chief, however. Yes, he was there, shut up in a room with a dude who towered over him in height...alone...in a heck of a lot of trouble. But he was stressed enough without letting this guy get to him. And so, pasting on his easiest, go-lucky grins, Sans shuffled over the chair and climbed into it.

His feet didn't even reach the floor.

"Alright," Delbenn began slowly, taking out a notepad and fetching a pencil from his pocket. "I'm going to ask you a few questions to start off, and I want you to be completely truthful."

Sans' grin stayed in place. "What? No lie detector?"

The human did not look amused. "As a skeleton it is known that you have no pulse of any kind; no blood pressure or heart beat to speak of whatsoever. A lie detector would be, in short, absolutely useless."

Gee. Tough crowd.

Delbenn cleared his throat, turning his disapproving eyes back down to his scribbling. "You are a monster, sub-species skeleton, correct?"

"Yes."

"Male?"

"Yes."

"Age?"

"...Um. There's really no easy answer for that one."

"Do your best."

"...A hundred and twenty-seven."

Chief Delbenn blinked, lowering his notepad and pausing in his writing.

"Human years," Sans supplied, as though that explained it all. Delbenn stared at him a moment longer before he seemed to simply shrug it off and move on.

"You are a friend of the human child, Frisk. Is that correct?"

Sans instantly became more guarded. He narrowed his sockets at the officer, the lights of his eyes becoming just a little bit dimmer. "What does that have anything to do with-"

"Just answer the question please."

He answered, just as he had told Undyne he would. Though he wasn't enjoying it. Questions about him he could understand, but he didn't see why they had to drag Frisk into anything. "...Yes."

"You all live in the same place."

"Yes."

"Redemption."

"Yes." The questions were getting faster. Sans sat up a little straighter, looking slightly braced.

"How far is that from here?"

"About twenty miles."

"In the country?"

"Yes."

"There are others there as well?"

"Yes."

"The King and Queen?"

"Yes."

"Alphys the scientist?"

"Yes."

"Undyne?"

"Yes."

"Do you hate humans?"

The question was so unexpected, and so out of line with what they were talking about, that Sans very nearly kept with his streak of 'yes's. That wouldn't have been good. But he caught himself, blinking blankly as though the man had spoken in another language. This was a tactic Flowey and Chara had never used; this misguiding leading of questions. Sans distinctly decided that he didn't like it.

The skeleton managed to gather what little remained of his mental footing and answered with a deep frown. "No."

Chief Delbenn nodded slowly, not looking up from his notes until he had finished writing out something a good deal longer than Sans' answer. Then he lowered the pad and pencil altogether, tucking them into his pocket. He folded his arms over his chest, giving the skeleton a firm, but not entirely threatening gaze.

"I understand that you were at the Negotiations yesterday. There are many reports on what happened, none of which favor your case in the least. In your own words, can you please describe what happened?"

Sans nodded, shifting a little uncomfortably. "Um, yeah, sure." He took a breath. "Me, Frisk, my brother, and Tori, um, I mean, _Lady Toriel,_ were invited to go to the Negotiations by Professor Hornbern the evening before they were going to take place. We went, and everything was going fine until..." He tried to push away the sense of overwhelming panic trying to claw its way into his mind. "I-I don't really know how it happened...but I just...sort of lost it. You know? I...don't really remember any of it. I just remember kind of snapping out of it and finding the whole Institute in shambles..."

He lowered his gaze, for the first time slipping into what he had convinced himself he wouldn't feel. Intimidated.

"I lost control."

The police chief hummed a low note, taking special notice of the skeleton's choice of words. Trained in interrogation, Delbenn was able to make assumptions about someone's character based off of what they said, and also what they didn't say. This monster's sense of internal locus, the belief that he was a factor that effected the world around him, was strong. It meant that he took responsibility for his actions, rather than blaming them on others or the situation. Very interesting. And useful. The monster's generality was specific, meaning that he was not connecting the incident to any other event or person. Again, very interesting. This skeleton was what might be considered an individual with a balanced control-identity, taking leadership when it was necessary, even if that meant taking the blame. He defined himself, and didn't allow himself to be defined by others.

"When you 'lost control'," the chief asked slowly, "were you aware of what you were doing?"

Sans winced, his skull starting to ache. "I...was sort of aware? But it was like I couldn't...It was like I wasn't really there anymore...Like I was watching but couldn't do anything to stop it." He was being a lot more open about all of this than he normally would be, and he made a conscious decision right then and there to be more guarded. He was starting to get a little too worked up for comfort.

"Do you know what triggered the reaction?"

"...No." At least, he didn't think he did. Or, did he? "No."

"Mm. You said that Professor Hornbern invited you along to the Negotiations."

"Yes. Him, Asgore, and Alphys."

"Tell me, when you were invited, were you eager to go?"

Sans made sure to think through his answer carefully. He had the worst kind of feeling deep inside himself, like he was slowly being cornered. "I...guess. I mean, any chance to get out of the house, right?"

Delbenn ignored the question. "You also said that your loss of control happened during the meeting."

"Yes."

"Around what time?"

Sans blinked. It wasn't like he was much for keeping time in the first place. He never even wore a watch. "Um...three-ish? Not sure. I wasn't exactly checking."

"Are you sure?"

The skeleton frowned. "Yeah."

The chief hummed again, taking out his notepad and scribbling furiously. And then, quite suddenly, his eyes snapped back up to meet the skeleton's own gaze, mouth moving at a rate Sans had not expected.

"If things are as you say, then you admit as to being at fault. The powers of which you possess are harmful and a danger to the human race, and could be used according to a well-founded hate."

"I-"

"Therefore, it could be assumed that your actions might not have been an accident, and the damage and harm you caused could have been deliberate. Do you deny that?"

Sans frowned, his hands having moved out of his pockets to grip rather shakily at the edge of the table. "Yeah. I deny that. I just told you that I don't hate h-"

"Mr. Sans, you are in no position to lie. At this point, a complete confession would serve you far better than continuing and prolonging the inevitable."

Despite himself, Sans started to shake, just a little. He wasn't sure if it was from fear or rage. His hold on the table tightened. "I told you that that isn't the case. I just lost control. That has nothing to do with me hating humans. I-"

Delbenn moved closer suddenly, cutting the skeleton off once more as he startled Sans be leaning on the table threateningly. "'Lost control', 'lost control'; you keep saying that! And when I ask you why or how, you can't answer me! That leaves me to assume only two possible things; one, that you are lying, or two, that you are a danger simply because you cannot control your monster tendencies! Either one is not favorable to your case!"

Sans stood abruptly, matching the human's stance by digging his fingers into the wood of the table. "Don't you think I know that?!" he declared, smiling deep inside when Delbenn seemed both surprised and startled. Outwardly, though, Sans looked like something out of all those black and white courtroom dramas. "I don't understand any of this! No more than anyone else! And I can't-" He broke of, the voice choked right out of him before he recovered. When he started up again, he seemed slightly more calm. At least outwardly.

"I can't explain something I don't understand myself."

The police chief backed away a step, standing up straight and looking very disappointed. "Then you are in far more trouble than I think you realize. This investigation is not over. Accident or no, a great deal of damage has been done. Charges have been made by the Board of the Institute-"

Sans groaned.

"- and their cases will be brought to court within a few weeks' time. You will be notified then." His gaze pierced down into Sans' own. "Is that clear?"

The skeleton gave a shrug, but it seemed far less careless and more uneasy than normal, and he didn't look away from the police chief's face. "Perfectly. Can I go now?"

Police chief Frank Delbenn paused, then nodded.

* * *

It was only a few minutes after Sans left the interogation room and Frank Delbeen had returned to his office that Undyne came charging in. Her eyes held a light of rage the human was very used to, and, unlike many people, was not fazed by in the least.

The fish-like monster stomped across the carpet, somehow producing a heavy thump with each step despite the thickness of the material. She came to a stiff halt in front of his desk, glaring as though she might be able to incinerate him by simply doing so. He held her gaze calmly, waiting for the woman to start what he knew was coming.

He didn't have long to wait.

"Frank, listen-!"

"No, _you_ listen, Undyne," the policeman interrupted. "I did what I had to do. You know that. Interrogations are never fun, and follow a very strict format."

"The heck with formats!" Undyne growled. "That doesn't mean you have to try and scare the living daylights out of someone!"

Delbenn matched her words with a growl of his own. "Fear is one of many tactics used in this line of work. You _know_ that."

Undyne couldn't argue with that. She had had her fair share of 'convincing' suspects to open up and tell the truth, back in her days as Captain of the Royal Guard. But it was one thing to be the one doing the talking, and quite another to have to stand by and watch it happen. Especially to a friend. Undyne almost wished that she hadn't insisted on standing on the other side of that two-way mirror, watching as Sans quite visibly, at least to her, struggled to keep from tearing down under Frank Delbenn's questioning and assumptions.

"He. Isn't. Guilty," she intoned darkly. "Sans isn't even capable of premeditated violence."

A look of indignation flitted into the police chief's face. He stood once more from his desk and gave her a grave expression before pointing a stiff finger toward the door. "Undyne, that monster could have caused a lot of deaths!"

"But he didn't!"

"THAT IS BESIDE THE POINT!"

Undyne closed her mouth tight like a box, blinking in surprise at the raising of his voice. Frank held her gaze for a moment, before he sighed, bringing a hand up to message his forehead.

"That is beside the point," he said again, quieter. "I know he's one of your own. And I understand that, up until now, he has never done anything to harm a single human life. But, Undyne, this is bigger than just you, or him, or even me. I _have to_ do my job."

The fish-like monster gritted her teeth. "Which is?"

"To make sure that he isn't a danger. Even if that means getting him out of the picture."

Undyne's eyes narrowed, her soul beating fast and anger beginning to heat up her face. "What the heck is that supposed to mean?!"

Frank lowered his gaze, having the gall to speak at all in front of the raging monster. He sighed again, choosing his words carefully. "It means that if he isn't proved exempt from all charges, we'll have no other choice but to do whatever it takes to ensure he will never harm anyone. Whether that means locking him up or somehow disabling his magic, that all depends on what measures we'll have to take to reach a level of safety."

"Disable his magic!" Undyne nearly roared, her expression a mix of horror and an even greater rage. "Are you insane?! Even if that was possible, doing that to Sans would dust him!"

"Dust him?"

"Kill him! Monsters are kept alive by their magic, skeletons most of all! Take that from him, and he'll die!"

Frank held up his hands defensively, motioning for her to lower her voice as he sent a nervous glance toward the closed door. "Alright; alright, I'm sorry. I was just trying to warn you of the pressure the higher ups are putting down on me. Don't get so worked up over it."

His words did little to calm Undyne however. "Get worked up?! You just told me plan B was killing my friend's brother! When exactly do you want me to get worked up, Frank? Just seconds before Sans' magic is cut and I'm standing there watching him breathe his last stupid pun!"

"Undyne this is no joking matter-"

SLAM!

Undyne's fist came down to smash into Frank Delbenn's desk, hard enough to cause his paperwork to scatter and leave a visible mark in the woodwork. Undyne's eyes were blazing, and, for perhaps the first time since he had first met her, Frank was afraid.

The fish-woman's voice was sizzling with fury. "Does _this_ ," she pointed to her face, "look like the expression of someone who's _joking?!_ "

Frank held her gaze for several moments before looking away. "No."

With a huff of anger, Undyne turned on her heel, marching for the door, each step resounding with all the rage she felt. "Sans isn't to blame for this. I'm sure of it. And we'll prove it to you," she warned, her voice now low and dangerous. "And you can take me off your consultants list, Frank. I'm not coming back."

"Undyne; wait."

Even though she didn't want to, Undyne turned, pausing. Her glare brought to mind the saying 'if looks could kill'. " _What?!_ "

"We really could use your help in this case," the human began, looking down at his desk and the scattered papers instead of looking at her. "I know you're mad about all this, but I promise you I'm not out for your friend's blood...Magic. Whatever. I don't want this thing to be drawn out any more than you do, and I will say that I hope he isn't guilty. But if he is-"

"He. Isn't."

"- _If_ he is, Undyne; then he's going to need you here to defend him. You're the only monster on the Legal Board right now. If you step out, how does he even have a prayer of making it out of this?"

Undyne stilled, all the anger draining away from her. As much as she hated to admit it, Frank was right. In fact, that was the very reason she had teamed up with the police in the first place; to make sure that relations between monsters and humans remained fair and safe. So far, there really hadn't been any major problems, other than a few fist fights and protests. But now, here she was facing a real monster-human problem. Not only facing it, but stuck right in the middle of it. And as much as she would have loved to simply step back and disassociate herself with the human department completely, she realized that she couldn't. Otherwise there would be no one to speak for Sans' defense. None of the humans would, of that Undyne was certain. And while she believed Frank was being sincere about not wanting Sans to get punished for something he couldn't even control, she also knew that Frank would do nothing personally to stop it from happening. He was just too biased.

That left her as the only friend in the legal system Sans had.

Undyne sighed, her posture bending as though beneath a terrible weight. But her face gained a resolved look; an almost determined look. "Fine. I'll stay on the board."

Frank seemed pleased. "You won't regret it!" he called after her as she walked out the door of his office, shutting the door roughly behind her.

"I already do."

* * *

Sans was waiting out in the hall, grinning like an idiot as Undyne made her way toward him. He was flanked by two officers, both of which were watching him intently. It made Undyne's anger all the more palpable. Especially when she noticed that their hands were resting dangerously close to the holsters of their guns. Sans hadn't noticed, at least not that Undyne could tell, but, of course, he wasn't trained to notice something like that.

Though, in Undyne's experience, Sans was usually more aware of what was happening around him than he let on. She could sense he was tense the closer she got, his soul weak but perfectly capable of broadcasting its unease.

Outwardly, he didn't look fazed at all, and, if Undyne hadn't known him better, she might have believed he wasn't even bothered by all that had happened. His lazy grin and half-lidded eye sockets made him look calm and laid back. But the slightest tremble from within the pockets of his jacket told Undyne that his hands were shaking. And that made the fish-like monster all the more upset. Sans shouldn't have to be bothered by something like this. He was never meant to carry any more pain and suffering. He had suffered enough.

When he saw her coming, Sans stood up from his seat on the bench, slowing his motions considerably when the two officers at his back flinched. Yep. He knew what they were doing. Sans wasn't as dumb as he looked.

Undyne came to a stiff halt in front of the three, not looking to Sans, but to the policemen themselves. "We're leaving," she stated, her voice nothing short of a growl. "So you can relax, before I _give_ you something to feel anxious about!" She reached for Sans wrist, grabbing hold and marching him toward the exit. "Come on, short-stack. Let's get out of this stupid place."

Sans nearly stumbled as he struggled to adjust his pace to match Undyne's own. He gave a uneasy chuckle, something that just sort of slipped out as he managed to come up alongside her, rather than being dragged. "What's the hurry? Chief wasn't _policed_ to see you?" He gave another chuckle that was quickly cut off by Undyne's growl.

"Shut. Up."

"But I-"

"SHUT UP!"

Sans fell silent immediately, his trademark smile dimmed to a concerned grimace. However, he waited until the fish-like monster had marched them outside the police station and out onto the street before trying again.

"...Undyne?"

Undyne turned on him like a feral beast, her one eye raging and pointed teeth bared. "WHAT?! Isn't it enough that you've made all our lives a living... _heck!_ " A year of living with a child was starting to show. Her swearing vocabulary was shrinking, whether she realized it or not. "Can't you just...just be quiet?! For two seconds?!"

She glared at him, breathing heavily before the look of wrath slowly melted to one of horrified realization. She released the skeletons wrist, running a hand through her red hair in agitation. "Shoot. Shoot! Sans, man, I'm..." She still wasn't going to say it. "I didn't mean it, I was just-"

Sans gave a sigh, lowering his gaze to the sidewalk. "I'm sorry, Undyne."

The small voice, and the defeat in it, nearly choked her back to anger. Almost. He wasn't the one who needed to apologize. He was scared; she could sense it. Scared, confused, and everything that Undyne felt herself. But that didn't change their situation any.

She released a half frustrated sigh. "Sorry isn't going to fix it this time, Sans. You've messed up; we all have. Do you have any idea what could happen, Sans? Do you?" Her tone wasn't so much angry now as it was strained

Sans blanched. "The Negotiations could be disconti-"

"THE HECK WITH THE NEGOTIATIONS!"

Undyne lurched forward, grabbing him by the front of his jacket and heaving him, dangling, to her level. She wasn't even concerned by the glances of fear some human passerbys sent their way. Again her anger quickly snuffed out as she gave him a half-hearted shake.

"I MEAN...I mean, yeah, the Negotiations could be shot, but that's not what I'm trying to say, Sans. You could be taken away. Frank has the power to do it, and he didn't really like you in the first place. He's not as prejudice as some, but he certainly isn't all on our side, even if he's sorta friends with me. Now he thinks you're a jerk, and you are," she added heatedly. "He could have you taken to Asgore-knows-where! What do you think would happen then, huh? What would Papyrus do? Or Toriel, or Frisk? What do you think would happen to us if you were taken away?!"

Sans was slowly coming to the conclusion that Undyne was truly concerned about him. Even more so than the Negotiations. She was truly, and genuinely, worried.

"That won't happen," he replied weakly.

Undyne hissed, a little too close for comfort. "How do you know?"

"I...just do."

He wouldn't let them take him. Hornbern and he would solve all of it long before that even became a threat. Before _he_ became a threat. If they could just figure out what was wrong with his magic, than maybe it would all work out. The professor seemed to think it would. It was still a shot in the dark, but it was better than this. Anything was better than this.

The fish-like monster gave a final hiss of frustration, setting him down roughly. Her gaze was icy, despite the fire that seemed to burn within her one eye. "Promise me."

_Oh, shoot._ "W-What?"

"Promise me."

"Undyne, you know I don't-"

" _Promise_. _Me_. Or so help me, Sans, I'll punch you so hard, Pap will feel it!"

That was a little extreme. And they both knew she would never do that. Out of respect for Papyrus, not him. Still. Sans felt a strange ill feeling come over him. It was the same feeling that always crept through him whenever he was asked to give his word. Promises were...sacred, somehow. He couldn't even remember why; they just were. And he had made so many, through so many timelines. And what haunted him most, was that he hadn't been able to keep them all. Not even half of them.

"SANS!"

Then again, what was one more lie?

"Fine. Fine, I...promise."

The walk back to Redemption was slow, in that they stopped somewhere for lunch to finally get Sans' magic reserves back up to par. They didn't talk much, unless it was necessary, and, with the skeleton feeling better, Undyne did not offer to carry him again. The space between them was tense and uncomfortable, and when they finally got back home they both went silently off to their own devices. For the next couple of days, everyone could feel the tension, but nobody dared to ask; not Undyne because she looked so irritable, and not Sans because...because Sans was Sans and probably wouldn't talk anyway.


	11. A Deal Not So Sweet

Sans took a deep, steadying breathe, waiting for the dizziness to leave him before trying to move.

He had _told_ himself that he wouldn't teleport from the countryside all the way to the Institute again; not after how he had felt the last time he had tried. But he couldn't very well walk through the city to get there at this time, without fear of being spotted and reported to the police. That wouldn't do him any good, and it would have made things even more complicated than they already were. He had tried thinking of multiple ways of making the distance without using his magic, but each supposed 'answer' had been a dead end and he had ended up right where he had started. There was simply no way around it; not without risking being caught.

Thankfully, due to his reserves being fully restored after a few days of rest, he was not nearly as dizzy and nauseous as he had been on Monday night. This was nothing compared to that. The teleport had been fairly smooth, and he had ended up right where he had wanted to, just outside of the Institute auditorium's massive, oak doors. It had still winded him though, sending a residual ache through his bones, still sore from that weekend.

Wednesday had come way too quickly. He had tried not to think much about it all during Tuesday and most of Wednesday morning and evening, but that was easier said than done. It felt as if he had just barely managed to get himself back together again when he was once again fated, or so it seemed, to use magic once more in getting from one place to another. It was rather infuriating. And exhausting.

But necessary.

Sans and Hornbern had not talked since Monday, and he might have wondered if their plans were still on had not Alphys delivered a small note passed to her from the professor. Sans was silently concerned at first with Hornbern's choice of a messenger. Alphys, while one of the sweetest and most endearing people the skeleton knew, was not exactly one to be able to thwart the pangs of curiosity that plagued her from time to time. And while she would surely have stuttered and apologized until she was blue in the face had she actually opened and read the note, by then it would have been to late. But Sans was glad to see that Alphys had either been too busy or too disinterested in finding out what it said, for the envelope was still sealed when he received it, with no signs of entree.

As a whole, it was a little annoying to get that note; a note that said oh so cordially that the professor was just making sure they were still on for the next night. It was almost as though Hornbern expected him to back out of their appointment or something. Sans had no such notion. He was more adamant than ever to fix the mess he had made, having found the meeting with Police Chief Delbenn disturbing, to say the least. He had to find something to solve what he could, before the invisible walls began to close in around him. Before it was too late. Already he could feel the almost suffocating reality baring down on him, making his soul quiver with unease.

This had to be resolved. Before it went any further.

"My, my. Right on time. You have an affinity for being punctual, my friend."

Sans startled slightly, his sneakered feet making a gritty noise against the tiled floor before he relaxed, spotting Hornbern's slim shape to his left in the shadows. He cracked a smile, treating the human to his most nonchalant pose, hands buried deep in his pockets.

"Yup. Wouldn't miss it for the world." _Lie_. He really wasn't looking forward to this. "And as for time, you've got no idea how accurate you are."

After literal years of studying timelines, and time itself, he had gained an almost uncanny knack for being at one with it. Even up here on the Surface, when he could no longer predict what would happen, that irrefutable skill for managing time was still present, showing up in varying ways. Punctuality certainly one of the most visible.

Hornbern raised a curious brow, giving a chuckle but not inquiring as to what Sans meant. He stepped out of the shadows into the faint light coming in through the large, cathedral-like windows above them and to Sans' right. "I wasn't sure if you were going to show up. I mean, it is not like you had a very fun time when last we met."

A little bit of that pinprick glow faded from Sans' eye sockets, but his smile stayed glued in place, though maybe a little more strained than before. "I _was_ a little... _bone-weary_ after our little talk. Heh."

Hornbern gave a nod of understanding, almost apologetically. "I shouldn't have convinced you to participate in anything that night. You were too weak. I should have known better."

"Nah," Sans assured, with less conviction than he had intended. "It wasn't your fault. I should have known too. Even more so than you. It is _my_ magic, after all." The skeleton shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, suddenly regaining his nervous air that he had sported after first arriving. "So...Um. What's on the old agenda for tonight, huh?" he asked with a humorless chuckle, his gaze betraying his unease..

"Well, I'd like to try and do a little more preliminary tests before we try some of the harder ones. We have to know what triggered you, so that we don't do it again by mistake."

Sans looked even more unsettled. "Doesn't that mean we got to, um, _make_ it happen again?"

He didn't like that idea in the least. He hadn't been able to control his actions the first time around, when he _hadn't_ been expecting it; and after having experienced it, he was fairly certain it wouldn't have made it any better if he had. The thought, never mind the action itself, made him chilled with a fear he rarely felt.

"'Cause I...don't think that's such a good idea, buddy."

Hornbern gave a wave of his hand, rather dismissively, as he started to lead the way back to the underground office they had visited before. "Don't worry. I have a lot more sense than _that_. We'll find a way to figure it out without causing it to, shall we say, rupture out as it did before." He sent Sans a smile over his shoulder. "For now, I think we really just need to see what you are and what you are not capable of. That doesn't sound so bad, right?"

Sans had to admit, while the prospect of performing even the simplest magical task at the moment was daunting, it did seem like a logical place to start. The skeleton gave a shrug, trying to act like he'd really rather be home in bed.

"Heh. Guess that makes sense."

"Of course it does," Hornbern beamed. "Now, come along with me."

Sans shuffled after him, his gaze flitting nervously at the shadows as they went. While the professor seemed perfectly at ease, the skeleton couldn't help fearing them being caught. It wasn't like the Institute was some abandoned ruin deep in some forest jungle somewhere. This was a center of culture, study, and research; people, _hundreds_ of people, used the building and its grounds on a daily basis. The notion that, even at night, there was no one around seemed unlikely. Students finishing projects, professors working late; any number of instances scattered across Sans' thoughts, adding to his nervousness. The police chief's warning had stuck with him like the haunting of a spirit the last few days, and it was starting to take a toll on his tenuous grasp on a calm demeanor.

As they turned off into a familiar hall, Sans decided he was finished with the silence, opting that it would be better to talk quietly than let the eeriness of the quiet get to him.

"You know," he spoke up, suddenly and lowly, "I don't know very much about you."

Hornbern didn't miss a beat, letting out a soft chuckle. "Oh? And you hold that against me?"

"No. Not against you. People have a right to keep their secrets. Goodness knows I have mine." Sans paused, feeling slightly embarrassed as he lowered his voice just a little bit more. "But it would make me feel a little better. Knowing more about the person I'm gonna be letting poke around and find out how I tick."

"Hm. Fair enough."

They turned down the various passages, as they had done before, the first time Sans had come. Was that really only since Monday? Sans felt as though it had been much longer. But, at the same time, it felt as though it had come far too quickly. The entire time, Hornbern's voice, quiet, but not too quiet, echoed along the long halls as they went.

"My life's story isn't a terribly exciting one. I was born here in Ebott city to Emma and Gregory Hornbern. We lived in the East side of the city, a place not known for being very pleasant. We were poor, but not too poor. If you know what I mean."

Sans nodded, then remembered that Hornbern wouldn't be able to see the motion. "I do."

He and Papyrus had never been rich. In all honestly, they hadn't had a steady income at all until Papyrus had started trying to work his way into the Royal Guard, and Sans had started working as a sentry. Of course, no monster in the Underground could ever have really been called 'rich'. There was only so many gold pieces in circulation. Even Asgore hadn't been all that wealthy in respect to what a human might expect of royalty. In the Underground, wealth, if it could even really be called that, was more based on respect. The king was 'rich' because he was respected. When he said to jump, they jumped. When he gave orders, they followed. Undyne, in that respect, because she had headed the Royal Guard, had held a fair amount of that kind of 'wealth' as well.

Sans, on the other hand, while liked by a handful of friends at Grillby's, hadn't really ever been respected, in the sense of the word. Least ways, not back then. Now was a different story. His ragtag family knew what he had endured throughout the resets. They knew of the battles with Chara, and what he had tried to do to end the endless loop. That had earned him quite a bit of respect. So, in a way, he had really moved up in the world since back then. A real rags-to-riches story; just of a different kind than the humans were used to.

"It was my goal in life," Hornbern continued, recapturing Sans' thoughts, "to make more of myself than either of my parents. That was their wish, and I only wanted to meet their expectations. After years of hard work, I managed to land a job that paid enough to allow me to pay for my education. I had always liked science, so it only made sense that I should go into that field. I also liked the mathematics. I ended up majoring in physics; quite happily I might add."

Again Sans nodded, before a slight frown spread across his face. "How did a physicist become involved in the matters of monsters, humans, and politics?"

Hornbern gave a chuckle, reaching his office door at last. "Believe it or not, I had always been fascinated with myths and legends that monsters once roamed the earth. In my spare time, within the last few years, I even wrote a few notable papers on the subject. Mind you, I wasn't exactly expecting monsters to suddenly resurface in the world only a few short years later. When the city government tried to gather up any and all those who knew anything about monsters, I was among the most qualified. Therefore, I got the position in the Negotiations that I now hold."

"I see."

"And here we are," Hornbern declared, pushing his office door open and once again motioning for the skeleton to enter first. Sans did so, just as the light switched on, causing him to blink. And then he gaped.

"Whoa. Spring cleaning, Professor?"

The once cluttered room, with all its many boxes, papers, and folders, was now as neat and organized as anything Sans had ever seen. Even Papyrus would have been impressed. Things had been cleared, and stored, and dusted, until it felt and smelt as sterile as a hospital room. Right down to the reflective, white floors mirroring the hazy, blue glow of the overhead lights. The desk and rolling chair had been removed, replaced by a few filing cabinets, a metal storage box big enough to qualify as another desk itself, and what appeared to be an examination table, not all unlike the one in Redemption's basement. Sans blinked at it, then blatantly refused to acknowledge its existence, at least for the moment. The sight of it sent shivers down his spine.

Sans gave a chuckle, peering about with amused curiosity as though he expected to spot all of the office's missing items shoved in a corner. "Where'd you put it all?"

Hornbern stepped into the room, switching on a few more lights to neutralize the blue glow with a softer white. Brighter and more natural. "There are other storage facilities down the hall here. I merely moved some things there. I wanted our work space to be a little less...hazardous."

"Gotchya. So, how are we doing this?"

Hornbern grabbed a clipboard from a peg in the wall, giving it a glance as he pointed to the thick, imposing examination table. "Have a seat. I'll be ready in a moment."

Sans gave the object in question an anxious glance. He couldn't really say why it made him so nervous, any more than he could determine why Alphys' lab had made him nervous only a few days before. It made a cold lump settle in the pit of his nonexistent stomach. But the feeling wasn't overwhelming, and he decided that it was just all the stress and stuff he'd been under lately. That thought gave him the strength to push the feelings aside. He took a deep breath, and then managed to crawl up to sit on the tables cold, metal surface. Thankfully, Hornbern had been considerate enough to leave him a stool to use in aid of the climb.

He settled himself, first trying to place his hands back in his pockets before finding that position slightly more awkward while sitting. He ended up pressing his palms into one another against his leg. It didn't help him appear any less worried, but it _did_ help him feel a little less tense inside. He sat that way, glancing around the room, which now seemed almost too bare, until Hornbern finished his preparation and walked forward to join him.

"I would like for us to do some reflex tests," Hornbern reported, glancing down at the clipboard in his hand. "I wanted to study a little bit about what you said. About monsters' magic not having any mass or volume."

Sans raised a surprised brow. "I said that?"

"You most certainly did."

"Heh." Now that was a little disconcerting. "Funny," even though it wasn't, "but I don't really remember saying that."

Hornbern frowned. "Well, you did."

"I must have been pretty out of it. More than I thought."

"Is it inaccurate?"

Sans shook his head. "No, no. It's just that...I normally remember what I say. I usually remember a lot of stuff." He must have been really suffering that magic exhaustion to have forgotten. Normally, he had an impeccable memory. He had had to, to make it through so many resets without losing one bit of the things he had learned and seen. Without losing his mind. It had been a blessing.

And a curse.

"And...how are you planning to 'test' my reflexes'? I don't have muscles or anything, so the whole little hammer against the knee cap thing won't work. Believe me, it's been tried."

Hornbern gave a huff, one that sounded only half amused. "By whom?''

Sans shrugged. "People. When we first arrived. I don't know how much you were interested in the headlines, pal, but when we monsters waltzed out of the Underground, we made quite a stir. Every doctor, scientist, and their cousin wanted to check us over." His grin weakened slightly. "Except you," he observed.

"Ah, yes. Well,'' Hornbern hummed distractedly. "I was in Europe at the time. Giving lectures in London. It wasn't until I got back that I was drawn into the Negotiations." He was reading over something on his clipboard, seeming decidedly more serious than he had been before.

"Lectures, huh?" Sans smirked. "What'd you teach?"

"Physics."

"Ah."

Sans didn't know what to say after that. He simply stayed as still as he could, with his short legs dangling over the edge of the table, his sneakers threatening to slip off.

Pap had warned him that they were too big.

The skeleton watched Hornbern warily. He felt his curiosity peak by what appeared to be notes, and he leaned forward slightly, trying to catch a glimpse. That was quickly put to an end as Hornbern suddenly tossed the pad and pencil onto his desk, deftly flapping it shut simultaneously. His attention was instantly fixed on Sans, looking quite business-like. He paused a moment, taking the skeleton in, before he reached out and gave the sleeve of Sans' blue coat a slight tug.

"Can you take this off, please?"

Sans hesitated for only a moment, the first question coming to his mind being 'why', but he quickly pushed that thought aside. Nodding, he carefully shrugged out of the bulky material, reluctantly handing it to the professor, who laid it on filing cabinet.

Sans felt instantly vulnerable. Something that he absolutely _hated_. He and that old coat had been through a lot. More than anyone could ever understand, and though the puffy fabric was really no protection whatsoever, it gave him an illusion of safety. Now, with it gone, he felt a shiver run through him, even though he wasn't cold. All that he ever wore under the ratty, old thing was a thin, white t-shirt. In it, without his coat, Hornbern could easily see that the skeleton was even smaller than he had thought. The coat had given Sans a lot of volume. Now , without it, he was hardly much bigger than Ambassador Frisk. Maybe just a little taller.

Hornbern held out a hand, looking patient and kind. "Wrist?"

Again Sans hesitated. This time the question was too much to hold inside him. "Why?"

"As you said, checking your reflexes is going to be a little difficult, given your...species, for lack of a better word." He gave a chuckle, not cruel or belittling. "Besides, I meant your reflexes in regard to your magic. Reaction time and such."

Sans nodded slowly. "Oh. Right." He eyed Hornbern's still outstretched hand. "And what has that got anything to do with my wrist?" More seemingly needless caution on his part. Why was he being so suspicious? It just seemed to be bubbling up from somewhere deep inside him, and Sans didn't like it.

Hornbern's eyes widened. "Oh, I am so sorry. I should probably explain before I go through with...what I'm going to do. I was just so occupied..."

He settled his hand into his lap, watching as Sans visibly relaxed. "You said that magic has no volume or physical storage form. That means that magic is non-physical. But that leaves the question of what does determine the amount of magic you can store, and what depletes that store in the long run."

Sans was still at a loss. "...Soooo..."

Hornbern outright laughed. "Well, we already know that you using magic at high quantities can wear it down. That makes perfect sense, and proves that you can only store so much. But what else can deplete it? That's the question."

"Huh. You know, I don't really know. It's not like I've ever tried, you know, to make myself that...worn out."

"No, no. Of course not," the professor dismissed. "But what about physical influence?"

"Excuse me?"

"If you are hurt, does that deplete your magic?"

Sans blinked. In all honesty, he had no idea. He wanted to say that it might...Then again, back when he used to fight Chara in the Judgment Hall, he had still been full of just as much magic before he was slashed across the ribs as after. It was just a matter of him turning to dust before he could do anything in regard to the human demon. But those were extreme circumstances. He had been angry. Beyond angry. There had been something else too, he recalled vaguely, that was different. He had felt something buzzing through him during that fight. Whatever it might have been - adrenaline, fear - it might have affected the outcome, so it wasn't really a situation he felt made a good basis for measurement.

That, and he didn't really feel like explaining the incident to Hornbern.

"I...don't know."

Hornbern nodded, looking pleased. "Ah, which is exactly why I have devised a little test. You see, we have to understand every aspect of your magic if I am to give an adequate report to the authorities. We have to know it's strengths and weaknesses, as well as what makes it work and what doesn't. Understand?"

"Sort of. Yeah. But...what about my wrist?"

Hornbern blinked. "Oh, yes. Well, you see, my test is to lower your HP and see if that has any effects on your magic."

Sans recoiled at once, looking quite uneasy. "I...don't like that plan."

"Do not worry, I won't harm you. I mean...Oh here, look-" He pulled a small tool from his own coat, holding it out for Sans to take.

The skeleton took the object in his hand, warily. It was a thin, needle-like tool; not quite a chisel, since it was far sharper, though it couldn't quite be called a knife. It was made of a heavy metal, sturdy, and rather frighteningly precise in shape, so that Sans didn't even have to guess what it was for.

Scraping. Gouging. Scratching.

"If I can bring your HP down by just a fraction, then we can tell whether it has any effect or not." Hornbern took the tool back, suddenly looking concerned. "Unless, of course...you object? I won't push you. But you must remember that this is the only way we can work through all of our problems."

If Sans had had a lip, he would have been gnawing it in uncertainty. His eyes didn't leave the tool as Hornbern had taken it back, and the lights in his eyes, while dim, were calculating. He was considering. Again Hornbern was right in what he said. The test, unpleasant as it sounded, was logical and do-able. As long as the professor's hand was steady, and extremely careful.

Man, that required a heck of a lot of trust on Sans' part. But if it meant getting everything cleared and back to normal, and got rid of the danger of him ever losing control again, then it would be worth it. Again pushing back the deep feelings within him that screamed otherwise, Sans nodded his head slowly.

"I...That's fine. I can do that." He raised his glowing pupils to look straight into the professor's own, no humor in his voice whatsoever. "But remember, Professor; I've only got one HP. If you mess up..."

Hornbern shook his head vigorously, reaching out again to lay a hand in a comforting manner on the skeleton's knee. "I will be very careful. I'm not going into this blind; I did my research. I calculated this to the decimal."

Somehow that didn't make Sans feel any better. It was like someone asking to practice brain surgery on you after taking a crash course on it through the mail. Sans couldn't believe he was going to do this. He gave a short chuckle, one that just sounded wrong, and nervous, and _frightened_.

"Good, because...Because that's what your going to be working with. Decimals."

Hornbern nodded, shifting the tool to his other hand. He paused, waiting. "You are willing?"

Sans sighed, his mind reeling with what he was agreeing to. He held out his wrist slowly and nodded.

The professor smiled encouragingly, taking the offered limb and securing it in his grip with startling strength. "Let me know if it's too much, and we'll stop," he spoke as a final chance to back out, but Sans had a feeling, somehow, that it was already too late. But the skeleton nodded again anyway, ignoring his fear, and Hornbern instantly went to work.

Sans gritted his teeth, refusing to look away as the tool cut a thin line across the white bone of his wrist. There was no blood, naturally. Only Sans knew that, should he be cut to a much greater degree, he would leak something resembling blood; though even he had no idea what it was. But he kept that information to himself. He didn't want to evoke the professor's curiosity. The cut looked instantly irritated, and it certainly hurt; not unbearably, but uncomfortable and sore; enough that Sans had to fight his own body from squirming. The skeleton felt his HP drop by the smallest fraction, but it was enough to make him feel dizzy and weak. Before the professor had even seemed to start, he stopped.

Hornbern pulled back. "See? That wasn't so bad. How do you feel?"

"...Sick..."

"I'm sorry." And he looked it. But the experiment was still foremost on his mind. "And your magic?"

Sans reached within himself, feeling along his reserves carefully. "Still seems to be at full strength," he wheezed slightly. Hornbern frowned.

"Did that really cause you so much harm?" he asked worriedly.

"W-Well, I _do_ only have one HP, man...That doesn't really leave much to mess around with before I start feeling a little under the weather."

Again Hornbern frowned, looking even more concerned. "I am sincerely sorry. Do you think you can continue?"

Sans gave him a tired smirk. "What? Living or the test?"

"The test." But then the human smiled faintly, seeming to pick up on the skeleton's weak humor. He shook his head in a fond way. "Both."

Sans sighed, that bit of comedian within him dimming noticeably. "Y-Yeah. I'm up for it...As long as it doesn't include any more sharp objects." He nodded pointedly to the tool now resting on Hornbern's desk.

"Yes. Of course." Hornbern moved over to his cabinet, reaching inside to pull out what looked suspiciously like masking tape. "Let's bandage you up before we go on to the next phase." He came up to the table again, gently taking the skeleton's injured arm and starting to cover it with, what Sans know realized, _was_ masking tape.

The monster gave a huff of amusement, raising an invisible brow at the professor in question. Hornbern looked up before chuckling himself.

"What?" he asked, eyes full of mirth. "Real bandages wouldn't ever stay on you; bones are much too smooth."

Sans had to agree, chuckling again before wincing as the tape covered over the sore scrape. "I'm going to have to make sure the others don't see this," he murmured, more to himself than Hornbern, though the man nodded in agreement. Sans wasn't really worried. His coat would more than suffice as a covering. And it wasn't like he ever took the thing off anyway. No one would ever know the difference.

The professor stood back, nodding at his handiwork. "There. That should hold, and protect the scratch from infection; if you are capable of suffering infection that is. Now. Would you follow me, please?"

He headed for the door, waiting just outside it in the hall for Sans to follow. After a moment of confusion, the skeleton did so, getting down from his perch with a little more difficulty, not wanting to use his aching arm in assisting himself. He landed feet first on the ground, wobbling a little, before feeling balanced enough to continue.

Hornbern led him further down the hall than they had traveled as of yet, and Sans became convinced that the basement of the Institute was, indeed, a maze of some sort. It held a very labyrinthine feel about it, its dark, semi-lit corridors adding to the effect. Sans stuck very close to the human as he led the way, not wanting to be left behind to traverse the halls alone. Not that there was much fear of that. Hornbern was being very careful to stay at the skeleton's side, watching him carefully in case Sans' sense of balance decided to abandon him.

Finally, after what felt like an incredibly long time, they came to yet another door. And if Sans had thought the basement had seemed secure, this was nearly three times as so. The door was made of something resembling thick, impenetrable steal or iron, with big, hulking rivets holding the metal together like those used to hold a battleship together. There was a very large, admittedly ancient-looking lock slipped in between the aged metal loop sealing the door to the wall. Rust showed in some places, standing out a dull, brownish-red against the overall greenish-blue of the door itself.

Hornbern stopped, fishing about in his pocket before coming up with a single key on a ring that matched its counterpart in age. Sans tried not to smirk at the irony.

It was a skeleton key.

With a rusty, gritting click, and a small shower of actual rust from the keyhole, the human proceeded to unlock the door and then threw a considerable amount of weight against it to force the portal open. It did so with a low, ominous creak.

It was pitch black through that yawning hole, and Sans hung back, agitated by the sight somehow. He waited on Hornbern, who, for once, didn't motion for the monster to go first. Instead, he entered the darkness himself, disappearing within it and leaving Sans to stand alone in the hall. There was several horrible seconds were Sans wasn't sure if he wasn't all at once really and truly abandoned, before lights flickered on, flooding the room within with an intense glow, casting a shaft out into the dark hall where Sans stood, leaving a bright outline on the ground of the door itself. Once again, Sans blinked in the sudden glow, shielding his eyes against the glare.

"Come along!" Hornbern's voice called from within, though Sans couldn't see him.

The skeleton braced himself against the sting in his eyes the light was causing, and then pushed through, stepping into the room. The blinding whiteness faded after a moment, leaving in its place a chamber that nearly stole the skeleton's breath away in awe-filled shock.

The Institute Auditorium had been huge. The Judgement Hall had been _impressively_ huge. This...bested them _both_. It was a enormous room, bare of anything other than cold, slightly green, metal walls; much like the material of the door. Sans felt lost in its enormity, his sneakers sounding muffled as the sound of his steps was simply swallowed up by a seemingly endless space. Well, not _endless_ , but pretty darn impressive. The ceiling was comprised of odd, glowing fixtures, like lamps, but far older looking. And yet they still worked, to an almost startling degree. Sans couldn't help wondering if the things worked on electricity or something else. And, if it _was_ electricity, whether the human conversationalists knew about them.

The whole thing was just so overwhelming that Sans didn't even notice Hornbern at first. When he did, on the very farthest side of the room from the door, he appeared to be working intently on yet another door that was locked. Sans realized only then that his perception of the rooms walls hadn't been quite right. Three of the walls were made of that odd-colored metal. The forth, at least to some degree in the bottom left corner, was made out of something a bit more transparent, and decidedly newer than the rest of the structure. Beyond the 'glass' was some sort of control room, again much newer. Sans could just make out some of the equipment hidden in its dark shadows.

"Pretty impressive, yes?" Hornbern called cheerfully, finally managing the lock on the much smaller door. He pocketed the thing and the key, turning back to Sans with a smile, gesturing to the room as a whole. "I discovered it a few years back. When I was writing those papers on monster history and culture. I'd done a lot of research of the old texts. You know; Greek 'mythology' and the like. I figured that, if some of the ancient creatures were actually monsters, and were, in fact, _real_ , then perhaps there was something of a labyrinth of its own here in Ebott City. That is what led me to this basement. Of course, I had to do a lot of renovating and securing. Only those under my admission were allowed to know of it. A...personal project of sorts."

"Heck of a project," Sans breathed, still trying to take in what he was seeing.

Hornbern chuckled. "Yes, it is a bit much at first glance I suppose. And there's still a lot to do. Me and a few others have been steadily working our way through. The few places you have seen thus far is only a minimal percentage of what is down here. Our work is barely a drop in a bucket compared with what we'd like to do. But, for the most part, we decided to leave this room untouched. Now, I am very glad we did. You and I will be needing this space quite a bit."

"But what _is_ this place?" Sans asked, finally having made his way across to Hornbern's side. His eyes seemed especially fascinated with the ceiling lights. "It doesn't look like anything I've ever seen in human architecture."

Hornbern nodded, seeming pleased with Sans' sense of awareness. "That is because it was not built by humans."

Sans jolted his attention back to the man as he continued.

While the Institute above was indeed, for the most part, erected by human hands, the places buried deep below it are not. They couldn't be. The strength such work would entail...It had to have been magic. There is no explanation. From what me and my colleagues can surmise, these might be ruins of something that the Institute was later built on top of; the wonders beneath forgotten as the years marched onward." He paused, leading Sans gaze to take in the room once again as Hornbern did so himself. "We also think that this room might have been some sort of training room."

Sans raised a brow.

"Or a holding cell."

"A what?!" Sans gaped, taking in the enormity of the room with a new sense of shock. "A holding cell? This big?"

Hornbern smiled at the monster's obvious disbelief. "It is only a theory."

"Yeah. Based on what?"

Again the professor looked pleased. "You will see. Now, just stay here a moment."

The man swept in through the smaller door he had unlocked earlier, disappearing once again as the door slid shut behind him with a resounding thud. Sans again waited the human out, standing and feeling increasingly small in the huge space. Then, so suddenly and loudly that Sans would have jumped out of his skin had he had any, Hornbern's voice boomed over a loudspeaker.

"Alright. Now. I want you to gather what magic you still have in reserves. You should be at full strength, am I right?"

Finally locating the professor in the room behind the glass, Sans nodded uncertainly.

"Good. I want you to unleash any attack you can come up with. And don't worry about damaging the room. That's why me and my colleagues are so certain it was built by monsters. It's impervious to magic. Won't hurt a thing. At least, in theory. That's also why we think it might be a holding cell. Of sorts. Or a training room. You don't have to replace a room that even magic can't demolish." A pause. "Are you ready?"

Sans was anything but ready. The sudden command to use his magic shouldn't have been much of a surprise, given his whole reason for being there in the first place; but it was. And he suddenly realized he didn't feel much like going on with the experiment at all. He was tired, his arm ached, he was dizzy and feeling sicker by the moment. The awesome skill of the room had distracted him at first,, but now he was keenly aware of his discomfort.

"Hey, uh, Professor?" he chanced, unsure if the man could even hear him. "Do ya think we could stave this all off for another night? I'm not feeling all that-"

Apparently, Hornbern could hear him, because he was almost immediately interrupted by a sharp command.

"We are doing this. _Now_."

The tone was a lot less accommodating than it had been, with a threatening air pushing behind it. It startled Sans to silence for a moment before he tried, almost in a hurt tone, from a different approach.

"You...said that I could ask to stop if I got uncomfortable. Listen; I'm uncomfortable with doing this right now. I'm tired, and I feel like I'm gonna drop. Let's do this some other time. Please?"

An uncomfortable, long silence followed, in which Sans watched the human uneasily through the glass separating them. Hornbern stared back, motionless and stern. Then, over the loudspeaker came:

"I'd have to cut you again. Now where would the sense in that be? If we don't do this now, we'll just have to go through it again next time, and you'll feel just as poorly then. Doing it now would mean getting it over with. Correct?"

Sans felt his soul shudder. Hornbern didn't sound quite so off this time; more like he was trying to reason with a frightened child. But it was still, somehow, threatening. Sans had a horrible feeling that he might not have as much a choice in the matter as he had thought. He could always walk back out into the hallway, but what good would that do? There was no way he could find his way back to the surface, and he was feeling far too shaky to risk another shortcut. Not after his HP had been scratched down into the decimals.

With seemingly no other choice, Sans nodded obediently.

"That's a good man," Hornbern's voice cheered from the other room through the speakers. The friendliness and encouragement was back, but it was gratingly fake in Sans' hearing. "Now. Begin."

With the sickening feeling twisting itself into a solid knot inside him, Sans gathered his magic about him. Then, with a final glance to the man behind the glass, hoping to find some mercy but finding none, Sans let out a moderatly impressive bone attack.

After that, everything just sort of blended together. Hornbern kept calling for stronger and stronger attcks, which Sans grudgingly proceeded to give. He kept a very close watch on his HP and reserves, much the same way he was certain that the professor was from the safety of his little side room. The bone attacks, even the strongest ones, weren't too taxing. Tiring, yes, but not overwhelmingly so. By the time he had reached his limit in skill with that attack, Sans was shaking a little and sweating a bit. Nothing too major. He still felt sick and dizzy, but the release of built up anxiety was somehow assisting with that a bit. It was then that Hornbern asked him what else Sans could do.

"I can...manipulate gravity?"

"Show me."

Hesitating just a moment, Sans complied. Where was the harm in throwing a few things around? He told Hornbern he needed something to work with, and the human promptly supplied a few old folding chairs from the side room. Before he retreated back there.

"Start."

Sans complied again, throwing the objects around and smashing them into every wall he could. He was tempted to throw them against the glass, out of some sort of childish frustration at Hornbern's treatment of him; but then he thought better of it. If he broke anything more, and the police found out...well, he wasn't so sure now that Hornbern wouldn't press charges.

After a time that seemed equal parts workout and equal part torture, Sans was panting hard, his breathing ragged and strained. His shaking had worsened to tremors that made his aim with the chairs a lot more difficult. He had stopped once or twice, to catch his breath, but Hornbern had put a quick end to that. Every time Sans felt he was done enough that he could actually force the human to give in for a break, or stopping entirely, Hornbern would somehow weasel even more out of him; either with encouragement, or warning. The professor was a master manipulator, to be sure.

When it became obvious that Sans was running out of steam, Hornbern's voice boomed over the speakers once again.

"The attack you used at the Negotiations. Do that."

"Th-the...huh?" Sans' thinking was dulled by his growing exhaustion. The chairs he had been throwing fell with loud clangs against the metal floor as he sagged visibly in the relief. Still standing, however, he fixed Hornbern with a look that was half disbelief and half confusion.

"The giant skull. Do it."

"P-Professor, I don't think I can."

"You can. I'm watching your stats. Now, do it."

"But-"

"NOW."

And there it was. The threatening tone. The command. The order. Sans hated it, but he didn't have the strength to object. He pulled deep from within himself, focusing on the familiar sense of anger and hate that always accompanied the blaster. He had summoned it so many times in that manner with Chara. He had done so, unwittingly, in the Institute Auditorium, and he was now, wittingly, doing so again. Focusing on the anger directed at Hornbern was easy; it lay just below the layered feelings of exhaustion.

The very air hummed with energy as the skull appeared, even it looking small in the expanse of the enormous room. It looked oddly out of place, something so strangely organic in a room so very much the opposite. The attack was large, despite Sans lack of energy, and not bothered in the least by the drain on his reserves. Sans had always wondered, and now believed, that the thing only ever came in one size. Huge. Terrifying. Dangerous.

"Fire it."

Sans did so, blindly, not even caring where it was aimed. It fired up with a deafening whine, before it released with an equally deafening roar of raw, concentrated magic. The flash was intense; the heat just as much so. The entire room seemed to all at once be filled with pure energy, before it all dissipated just as quickly, leaving no damage in the wall right side wall, other than a large, circular scorch mark. Sans gasped as the attack sucked even more power out of him, feeling a definite drop in his reserves for sure. His vision darkened for a moment, and he nearly fell over, close to collapsing. It took a second for him to realize just how close he had come to meeting the floor with his face until after the sound of his bony fingers hitting metal made him realize he had caught himself. He remained, gasping, in an odd, yoga-like pose, still on his feet, but with equal force holding him up from his shaking arms. Sweat dripped down from his skull to land in little wet circles between his hands on the floor.

"Again," Hornbern's voice directed, and Sans nearly let out a sob of pained despair.

"... I...I c-can't!"

"Think of how this will help us. How it will help the _Negotiations_. Your _friends_. Your _brother_." He was trying that reasoning tone again; the one that made Sans want to scream as he felt it manipulate him to obedience. " Again."

Sans reached deep inside himself, forcing himself to his feet and clenching his shaking hands into fists at his sides as he took in a ragged breath. With a final burst of energy, the blaster went off one final time before it crumbled away to grey powder and light particles. Sans, likewise, buckled and fell to the cold, metal floor in a heap. Conscious, but only just.

In the small side room, Hornbern nodded to himself as he sketched in a few last notes onto his pad. He gave Sans a quick glance, making sure the monster was still solid rather than dust before he quickly made his way out of the room and into the burnt, dusty space of the chamber. Two perfect scorch marks stained the wall to his left while bits of bone attacks, still dissolving to magic, littered the floor just about everywhere else. Though the skeleton's attacks had shown impressive power, they had still had no true effect on the structure of the chamber itself.

Hornbern's soft, all at once ominous footsteps came nearer as Sans shivered against the ungiving chill of the floor. His eyes were nearly closed, his eye lights flickering in and out, the left one more so than the right. His ribs, even through his t-shirt, kept clacking rhythmically against the floor with each uneven breath he took. That, mixed with the rattle of nearly every bone in his body, made for quite a raucous.

The sound of footsteps stopped just beside him, and he felt a hand press against his back. He somehow gathered enough energy to flinch when it was accompanied with the professor's voice.

"Well done, Sans. Very well done."

Hooray. Too bad he was too exhausted to celebrate.

"Do you need any assistance?"

_No, I feel great! Never better!_ Sans couldn't help the sarcastic thoughts from charging through his mind, but he couldn't manage so much as a sound audibly. Even shivering was becoming to much of a draining activity. All he could think was how so not worth it this night had been. How much he wished he had said no more forcefully, or simply walked out, regardless of the consequences. But the fact remained that he hadn't. In a way, this was his own fault.

And, deep down, the whining sense told him he had had no choice. But whose voice was that? His, or Hornbern's?

The sudden sensation of something slipping beneath his shoulders and knees won a gasp from him as Sans was lifted off the floor, the sound of clacking bones far less prominent without something hard to shake against. It was disorienting at first, and the skeleton flailed to the best of his ability, resulting in something far more resembling a twitch of his arms and legs, but then his mind settled and he realized Hornbern was carrying him out of the chamber.

Sans didn't fight it.

He couldn't.

Hornbern held him, cradling him like a child, all the way back to the professor's office, before lying the skeleton down on his back on the examination table. That was enough to instill enough fear through Sans to enable him to make an attempt to rise into a sitting position. He wouldn't have made it, but the attempt did earn him an explanation that eased his frayed nerves a fraction.

"Oh, oh," Hornbern warned gently, pushing down on Sans' chest just hard enough to force him back down. "I'm not going to do anything, do not fear. I just want to make sure you're stable and then I'll get you something to get your energy back up. Alright?"

Again, Sans had no choice. There was no way he was getting off of that table by himself. He laid back, still shivering harshly, the clacking taking president again against the metal of the table. Hornbern flitted about, getting a few tools; mostly a scanner and a few other devices that Sans couldn't even gather the energy to care about. The skeleton focused on merely breathing through his discomfort as the professor proceeded to check him over. He must have zoned out a bit, because before he knew it, he was being helped up and handed what looked like a candy bar. That one was followed by another. And another. After four, Sans was strong enough to sit up be himself, though he was still noticeably shaky.

"Better?" Hornbern inquired.

Sans mustered the hardest glare he could, which, in all honesty, was pathetic. "L-Like _you_ c-care."

Hornbern sighed, looking hurt. "Sans, you must understand. What I did, what I _said_ in there, that was all for our own good. For _your_ own good."

Sans almost laughed. Almost. "Good? G-Good?!" His voice sounded so shrill and out of his control; he hated it. "D-Does this," he gestured to his rebelling body, "look like it did me good?!"

"In the moment, no. But in the long run, yes; this will fix all your problems. We now know that injury does not deplete your energy. You were able to perform all of your attacks without any problem. Or...without to much of a problem." He paused, watching Sans carefully. "I think I warned you that this wasn't going to be easy, but the good you are doing for those you care about...isn't that worth it?"

Sans shivered, though not as hard, finishing the last of the candy bar. "E-Easy for you to say...You're not the one who feels like he's f-falling apart..."

"But I _am_ taking a very big risk. You realize that if the right people found out that I was working with you, my career would be over. And that would be a very big loss to me."

Sans looked up, mixed feelings flitting across his expression. "I...didn't realize that." Though he was not sympathetic. Not at that exact moment when all he wanted was to blast the man into oblivion. He was hurt. Hurt by the broken trust that he know felt from a human he shouldn't have been trusting in the first place. He hardly knew Hornbern for Asgore's sake! But he had been so desperate to fix his problems, to undo what had happened, that he had been willing to trust anyone. And now he was stuck with uncertainty. He wasn't even sure if Hornbern would let him out of the deal. The deal still stood; nothing had changed. Sans still wanted to fix what he had done, and this was the only way. It was just going to be a little bumpier than he had first thought.

Sans sighed, shoulders shrinking in toward his chest as he sagged, relying on his arms to hold him up. "We've got to keep doing this, right?" he asked weakly. "For everyone's sake. We've got to keep going."

"That's right. But you don't have to worry," the professor assured. "I'll be with you every step of the way. I won't let anything happen to you."

That was hardly comforting, considering his current condition, but Sans merely nodded. He was so tired.

"Can I go home now?"

Hornbern agreed. "Yes, of course. You'll need a ride, I assume?"

Sans shivered a final time, giving in to the inevitable.

"...Yeah. Thanks."


	12. Chapter 12

" _SANS!_ IT IS ALMOST NOON! GET UP!"

Sans moaned, rolling over and away, the covers of his bed wrapping tightly around his sore body, even though the movement was weak and uncoordinated. He dragged the pillow up over his head, attempting to block out his brother's voice to some extent, but was rewarded by a sharp pain in his wrist. It brought him to full wakefulness in an instant, bringing his arm up in front of his face to gaze groggily at the long, shallow wound that marred his pale arm. He blinked at it, his mind slow in remembering where he had gotten it.

And then, it came to him in a rush. He nearly gasped at the load of hazy memories that assaulted him, making him feel sick, but he managed to keep himself quiet. It had been a long time since he had experienced feelings like this, but his body still remembered how to react; quiet, despite pain.

Papyrus' loud, boisterous voice continued to carry through the thin wood of the smaller skeleton's door, innocent to what was happening inside it and causing Sans' headache to worsen considerably. Darn, he felt half dead.

Heh.

Which was...kinda funny? Since most humans would consider a skeleton...

No. No, it wasn't really funny at all. In fact, it was the exact opposite. He was too tired, and frightened, and sore to think of it as anything but morbid. And the memories of the night before were somehow making that worse, mixing together in his muddled brain like a backdrop of shadowed demons. Some parts darker and fuzzier than others.

He remembered Hornbern had driven him home, just like he had the first time. That much, at least, he could recount accurately. It had been a quiet, uncomfortably tense ride, and not one that Sans cared recall. Hornbern hadn't tried to start up a conversation, and the skeleton hadn't wanted him to. There were gaps in his thoughts, and he wondered if he might have fallen asleep at some point.

Or fallen unconscious.

He didn't remember much toward the end, other than Hornbern nudging him rather roughly from the car, watching weakly as it pulled away into the night, and then staggering on shaking legs up the porch and into the house. He had no idea what time it had been, and his mind had been too clouded to think of looking at a clock; but Redemption had been silent and dark. Everyone had been asleep. Just as he had left them.

He wasn't sure what miracle had helped him up the stairs to his bedroom on his own, but somehow he had managed it. Maybe the pure need to sleep in his own room had gotten him through it, and Sans wasn't going to question it. All he had wanted to do was purge the image of that dreadful room out of his mind; to replace it with the four, familiar walls of his bedroom. He had been relieved to an almost shameful extent to feel the slightly lumpy mattress beneath him and the rumpled sheets around him instead of the cold metal of an examination table. He must have passed out shortly after.

Now, though, he still felt _extremely_ sick. He had the night before, and he vaguely recalled Hornbern compromising to let him have three days of recovery before they moved on to his next test. Three days hardly seemed like enough to Sans, who felt as though his ailing body would never recover.

But it was better than nothing.

Sans wasn't sure what to make of what had happened. Half of him still defended that Hornbern was simply trying to help; that it was all a part of the rather painful process of fixing his mistakes. But then the other half, a deeper, quieter half, writhed and kicked at his soul, warning him to beware. To break off the deal before it was too late. To tell someone what was happening. _Anyone_.

But how could he? He had made a deal. A deal for the better of his friends and family. He couldn't back out now, and it wasn't like Hornbern had really done anything...wrong. All the procedures Sans had undergone last night were all logical, violent and strangely carried out though they might have been. It wasn't like Hornbern had strapped him down and sawed him open just for the heck of it.

Sans shuddered, horrified by that thought.

No, Hornbern had not done that, but...But there had been something. Something in the human's voice. Something that had hurt. Something that had scared Sans more than anything else had in a long while. Of course, he might have imagined it. He had been on edge; nervous with everything going on. Heck, maybe the whole thing had been his fault. His magic was weak from going haywire. If he was stronger, then it probably would have been a breeze. It was his own, useless body's fault that it was so weak now. He was almost glad he felt like turning to dust.

Man, he was pathetic. Couldn't even take a little strain in order to help his friends, family, and all monsterkind. Pathetic. Patheti-

"BROTHER, COME _ON!_ "

...Right. Papyrus.

Managing to prop himself up on one elbow, the one that wasn't currently on fire with pain, Sans shakily shifted into a slightly more upright position. His nonexistent throat felt odd, like it was stuffed with cotton, and when he tried to speak, nothing came out that was of any use. He cleared his throat, gave a light cough, before trying again. This time his voice decided to work, only it was just about the most reedy, weakest, and most miserable thing he'd ever heard.

"Just a s-sec, Pap..."

There was a pause, in which Sans could almost sense Papyrus' surprise, even through the closed door. Whether it was the fact that he had answered or that Papyrus was disturbed by the strange stutter in his older brother's voice, Sans was unsure. But the small skeleton knew that he had made a mistake in speaking at all. Pap wasn't stupid. He would know something was wrong.

Like the groan of doom, the door opened with a low creak, light from the hallway flooding in, making the Sans realize just how dark his room really was. The curtains were drawn, something that he remembered doing the night before, before he had left to see Hornbern. Next to the despair-like atmosphere he'd been lying in, the faint daylight streaming in was almost blinding.

And there was Papyrus, all sorts of worried expressions flitting over his face, as, with an obvious hint of uncertainty, he stepped into the room. He was little more than a silhouette; a skeletal cutout of black against the light of the doorway, but his appearance was like a breath of familiar air for Sans who, only a second before had felt like a man drowning in his fears. But that didn't stop Sans from giving a groan, turning his face away from the intrusion against his eyes.

"...Could you...shut the door, please?"

A moment later and a relieving darkness fell once more over the whole room. Sans almost sighed out loud, but he could still feel Papyrus' presence, tense and uneasy. Turning his head back toward the now closed door, Sans startled slightly when he discovered that his brother had silently drawn much closer. In fact, he was right beside the mattress now, looking at Sans with an air of hesitation.

Sans, despite the darkness, shuffled his injured arm deeper into the covers. He did not want to chance Papyrus seeing it.

"BROTHER? ARE YOU NOT FEELING WELL?"

That was the understatement of the century, and Sans might have laughed, had he not ached too much to try. That and he couldn't laugh in the face of his brother's loving sincerity, which shone so brightly even in his dark cage of a room that it was almost painful. So, instead, Sans coiled his control of his own body tightly, ignoring its protests, and with a fluid motion he was actually proud of, he shifted the covers aside and stood to his feet.

He instantly fixed his eyes one Papyrus' face, not because he could see him, but because he wanted to appear like he was fine while he waited for the agonizing flashes of white and blue to stop jolting across his vision. Somehow, he managed it, seeming perfectly fine as he forced in place his usual smile and gave a chuckle that left him feeling sick and hollow.

He was such a liar.

He didn't deserve a brother like Papyrus.

"Naw, bro, just feeling a bit tired is all."

Man, Papyrus was tall. Sans never really noticed it before. Well, he had, but not in the way he was realizing it now. Papyrus practically towered over him, leaving him feeling small and helpless.

Like Hornbern had.

In the faint darkness, Sans could almost imagine the professor standing there, analyzing him, testing him, and gods knew what. It sent a shiver down the monster's spine, and, for a moment, his imagination nearly ran away with him.

"...SANS?"

But thank the stars for Papyrus.

The tall skeleton had watched his brother rise from the bed with a feeling of uneasiness. Sans was claiming to be tired. Fine, that was nothing new. But there was something else; something Papyrus couldn't quite place. Maybe it was the way that Sans moved, something in his balance or stance that felt much less...in control than it usually was. Maybe it was the way Sans' hand shook slightly when the smaller skeleton used the light stand to stand up, or the way it lingered there a moment longer than he thought necessary. Or perhaps it was the way Sans had then looked up at him, right in the eyes, but with an almost blind kind of fix, as though he weren't looking at him, but rather through him.

The smile, now _that_ was familiar. And the tone of voice Sans always used; low, gentle, and cheery in a lazy sort of way; that was pretty much normal. Only now it felt somehow much weaker than it should have been.

All of these things were concerning Papyrus, but what had happened after that was the last card to the deck of worries that had been slowly building in his mind. Sans' grin had wavered, as had his stance. Hardly noticeable, especially in a room so ill-lit as this one. But Papyrus had always had excellent vision. He had watched with growing fear as Sans' gaze had become even more distant, and the smaller skeleton froze, as though gripped in some invisible force. Almost imperceivable, Sans' breath hitched, and in the deathly quiet it was as audible to Papyrus as though it had been a scream for help.

That had done it.

Papyrus had dropped down onto one knee, his hands instantly reaching out to grip gently but firmly to his brother's shoulders. Sans was still staring upward, at the spot he had been staring before Papyrus had crouched. Sans hadn't noticed he had moved. Touch and sight proving no purpose, Papyrus resorted to giving Sans a very light shake, then a little harder, before adding his voice.

"SANS?"

Sans blinked, startled, his eyes searching the air a moment before they dropped, finding Papyrus' face once again. The fake grin instantly flashed back into place as Sans' eyelids went to half-mast lazily.

"Yeah?"

"ARE YOU SURE YOU ARE ALRIGHT?"

"Never better."

They both new that was a lie. But Papyrus, the sweet, innocent, pacifistic person he was, didn't press the matter. And for that Sans was very grateful. It was then that the oldest brother realized that, at some point, his legs had given out, and he was now seated once again at the side of his bed. And, to be honest, Sans wasn't sure he could take trying to stand again on his own. But with some help...

Oh, he dreaded the idea. Here he was trying to convince his brother that he was fine, when he couldn't even stand. And confessing that fact would only worry Papyrus more. But if he didn't get downstairs and get something in him to restore his magic, he was as good as found out anyway. He just needed to have an excuse.

An excuse. Right. Well, that couldn't be too hard.

Pasting on what he hoped was a sheepish grin, Sans looked back up into his brother's face. "Just got up a little too fast, bro. Nothing to worry about. Didn't sleep the best."

Papyrus expression melted into an even more distressed form. His voice became soft and gentle, and that was almost worse somehow. "Oh, Sans, really? Was it another nightmare? Why didn't you come get me? I could have helped."

A flash of bitterness came out of nowhere and Sans found himself gritting out, "No one can help. I have to work through this alone." Weird. Seems he was more angry about his situation than he thought. He wanted to sigh, but decided against it. His emotions were all out of whack lately, and Hornbern's little tests weren't helping.

Papyrus felt his chest tighten at his brother's words. "Sans, you know that's not true. We want to help. Being alone can't be any good."

There was a silence in which Sans quite obviously decided not to acknowledge those words. Instead, he lifted out his hand, not meeting his brother's worried gaze. "Help me up?"

The taller skeleton practically jumped to obey. Sans was never one to ask for help with anything, no matter how much Papyrus pleaded. In all honesty, Papyrus hadn't actually expected his brother to relent. Sans was uncommonly stubborn and independent in many ways, and very reliant in others, but one thing always remained the same; he was always very reluctant to show himself as weak. Asking for help, somehow, fell into that category. Though Papyrus wasn't sure why. In his opinion, it took a lot of strength to be able to ask for the assistance of others. Strength and bravery, as well as trust. And while he was glad that Sans was showing trust in asking for help now, it was extremely unexpected, and rather disturbing. And he was aware it was only a partial surrender.

Papyrus nodded, stepping forward as Sans took a deep breath before trying to rise back to his feet again, this time while gripping tight to Papyrus' offered arm. Papyrus was rather surprised to see that the smaller skeleton was still wearing his clothes from the day before, something he hadn't noticed until now. Sans hadn't even changed into his night clothes last night. The only thing absent was Sans' favorite blue jacket, which, oddly enough, was nowhere in sight. As Sans struggled to get back upright, the taller brother remained as still and firm as a rock, determined to be whatever pillar of strength Sans needed.

Finally, after a few false starts, made even more awkward by the fact that Sans was trying to keep his hurt arm hidden, he made it to standing again. He wavered a moment, before he stabilized, looking up at Papyrus with an almost triumphant grin. "See? Fine. Just a little tired."

Papyrus nodded silently, the fact that Sans had not let go of his arm not going unnoticed. "Brother, if you really are this tired, then perhaps you should-"

"I want to get up."

Sans' tone had been sharp; almost clipped. Enough so that Papyrus actually flinched. Sans seemed to sense the effect his snappish comment had caused, and instantly relented, his voice soft and apologetic.

"...I want to get up. Please?"

He didn't want to lie in bed all day, thoughts of the night before rumbling around in his skull like some kind of sick pin-ball machine. As much as he ached, and as much as his low energy begged for sleep, he couldn't face that. He needed to distract himself. Maybe he'd nap on the living room couch later; after he felt a little less like he'd never get up again.

It was slow progress. Papyrus was very distressed with how much effort it seemed to be taking for Sans just to get across the room. By the time he had gotten his brother to the door, panting weakly as he clung to Papyrus' arm, the tall skeleton was thoroughly frightened.

"M-Maybe I should go get Alphys."

Sans shook his head, his gaze snapping up to Papyrus' face. "No." It was not a plea, it was a command. "I'm fine. There's no need to tell anyone and get them all worried over nothing. I'm fine."

Each repeat of that phrase 'I'm fine' only seemed to resonate more and more that he was not. But Papyrus had never been one to breach someone's privacy, even that of his own brother. Especially that of his own brother. Papyrus relented.

"SO...WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO DO?" he asked carefully, his voice rising back up to its usual volume.

Sans gave a forced chuckle, it coming out more as a wheeze than anything. "How about we wobble downstairs? I bet once I get something to eat I'll be as good as new."

Or at least he'd have the strength to pretend he was. At the moment, the walls that normally kept his emotions in check were weak and crumbling. He needed something to help keep them in place, before they fell completely. It took an immense amount of energy to pretend he was happy, and it was energy he didn't have. His fake smile slipped down into something less convincing as he tested his balance and weight on his own two feet. His legs held. Thank goodness.

Papyrus hovered at his side the whole way out into the hall, in case he was needed. But, to Sans' surprise and relief, he actually improved. The shakes diminished to something far less visible and he didn't feel quite so desperately dizzy like he had a moment before. His steps became more steady, as did his breaths. By the time they were making it past Alphys bedroom and to the stairs, Sans was walking as though nothing were wrong. The pain level had lowered to something he could easily manage and hide.

Papyrus gave a praising smile. "BETTER?"

"Much. Thanks, Pap."

"BUT OF COURSE," the skeleton crowed proudly. "WHAT ARE BIG, TALL, LITTLE BROTHERS FOR IF NOT TO BE AWESOME AND HELPFUL?" He paused, a hint of worry still in his tone. "BUT...PERHAPS ALPHYS SHOULD LOOK YOU OVER. MAKE SURE THERE'S NOTHING AMISS?"

Sans gritted his teeth as he began to make his way down the stairs. One step at a time, a hand braced against the wall but trying to appear as though he didn't actually need it.

"Papyrus, that's unnecessary. Alphys had got enough on her plate already. I don't want her to worry over things that don't matter. I was just up rather late, and I paid for it. But I'm good now. Ready to face the day."

The taller skeleton nodded, still uncertain. "WELL...ALRIGHT. IF YOU'RE SURE."

"I am." Sans gave him as bright a smile as he could manage. "Now, come on."

Papyrus had been right about the time. The sunlight streaming in through the kitchen curtains attested to the fact that it was, indeed, almost noon. Birds chirped outside, and a cool but pleasant breeze blew through the open screen door in the hall. Papyrus must have been airing the place out while cleaning, or something of that nature.

"I SAVED YOU SOME BREAKFAST FROM THIS MORNING," Papyrus announced, reaching the kitchen right behind Sans and immediately skirting around him to the refrigerator while Sans took a seat at the table. "I MADE IT WITH LADY TORIEL." He placed the already prepared plate in front of his brother. "IT IS CALLED 'EGG PIZZA'! OR 'BREAKFAST PIZZA', IF YOU PREFER."

Sans blinked down at the meal, rather mildly surprised it was something other than the usual menu. It was shaped like a pizza slice, obviously cut from something shaped like a whole pizza, and it was covered in toppings. But, rather than sauce, pepperoni, and the like, it appeared to have been layered with smooth egg, sprinkled with cheese, bacon, and what appeared to be little chops of green pepper. The crust was deeper than most pizzas, so that the raw egg, when poured in, would stay until it had hardened in the oven. It smelled like a diner-made dish; cooled, but still reasonably fresh.

Heh. Clever.

A light thunk on the center of the table drew Sans' attention back to his brother. Papyrus, grinning maybe a little sheepishly, had gone and brought Sans' ketchup bottle, setting it within reach.

"THOUGH I ASSURE YOU THAT IS A PERFECTLY GOOD MEAL _WITHOUT_ ANYTHING ON IT, I THOUGHT SINCE YOU HAD SUCH A HARD TIME GETTING UP, BUT STUCK WITH IT, I CAN ALLOW YOU TO SMOTHER IT IN THIS DISGUSTING CONDIMENT." Papyrus smiled, gesturing to the meal itself. "WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO HEAT IT UP FIRST?"

"No, thanks. I like it cold."

Papyrus nodded, seemingly not bothered by the prospect of eating cold breakfast food.

For the first time in days, Sans actually felt hungry enough to eat. And it wasn't because he felt any less stressed or sick. He was simply hungry; his body having finally taken enough abuse to actually feel it needed to step in and remind him to take care of himself. He had never been much good at that; taking care of himself. He had always been more worried about those around him. Those he wanted so badly to save, but never could.

Egg pizza was an...interesting concept, but it was actually very good. It was fairly bland, as far as most of Papyrus' meals went, and Sans was relieved when it stayed where he put it. He honestly wasn't sure if skeleton monsters could throw up, but it wasn't exactly something he felt like trying out. Especially today. Before Sans knew it, he had eaten nearly half the slice he had been given without any problems. And by then, he was fully aware of the fact that the house was abnormally quiet.

Careful not to sound too unnerved, he spoke up to Papyrus' back, while the younger skeleton worked at the sink full of dirty dishes. "Hey, um...Where is everyone?"

Papyrus turned to face him, his hands still coated in white, bubbly suds. "THEY ARE ALL OUT AND ABOUT. DR. ALPHYS AND KING ASGORE HAVE GONE OFF TO THE INSTITUTE TO WORK ON..." he paused, adding much softer, "repairs."

Sans winced, but his brother quickly continued.

"UNDYNE IS AT THE POLICE STATION. AND LADY TORIEL AND FRISK ARE AT SCHOOL."

Sans nodded, frowning down at his plate and deciding he had eaten all he wanted. He pushed the meal away a little, covering up his loss of appetite with a smile. "Huh. Right. School day. Um...what day is it, exactly?"

The taller skeleton paused, before he began to make his way over to the table, crossing his arms, though not in an angry way. He still looked concerned. "BROTHER, IT IS THURSDAY. DON'T YOU REMEMBER?"

"Ah, yes. Right." Thursday. The day after Wednesday. The day after he had gone to meet with Hornbern again. The day after he had allowed himself to be stressed beyond his limit. Right. _That_ day.

He must be really out of it; he was losing track of time.

Somehow, that thought almost made him laugh out loud. He had survived so such suffering under the resets, but of all the things that had happened, loss of memory had not been one of the ones to elude him. He could remember things as clear as if they were yesterday; a blessing in some aspects, and a curse in others. But then, to be here now, where it was safe, and having his memory ditch out the day before like it didn't matter was concerning, and needlessly hilarious. In a bitter sort of way. Figures when the time came that he could actually put a good memory to use it would start to konk out on him.

Sans looked back up at his brother, finding that the taller skeleton was watching him carefully. "And you're home because...?"

Papyrus grinned proudly. "I AM FILLING OUT AN APPLICATION!"

Sans blinked, a knot slowly forming in his chest. "Yeah? Heh, um, for what?"

Papyrus smiled even brighter, if that was possible, drying his hands hurriedly on a towel before he reached across the counter and pulled up a piece of formal looking paper. He sat down across from Sans, slipping the object over the table top so it was within his brother's reach.

Feeling far more nervous than he felt he should have, Sans moved out a hand and slid the paper right side up for him to read, bringing it closer to himself. His eye lights scanned over the print, twice, before it had sunk in what he was reading.

"A...police officer?"

"YES!" Papyrus nearly exploded with glee, rocking back in his chair so hard it nearly tipped.

The taller skeleton had been considering the occupation for a while now. It was the closest thing on the Surface that even came close to the Royal Guard. His dream to be popular and have friends had shifted over the last few years, becoming a wish to protect and help wherever he could. Sans had encouraged him. But that had been before his...little mess up. Before he had nearly brought the Negotiations crashing down on them. Surely the police wouldn't even consider a monster officer now. Other than Undyne, they seemed adamant to keep such individuals from joining. And Undyne wasn't even technically a cop. She was more of a consultant for when monster cases showed up, or monsters were involved in human affairs.

"POLICE CHIEF DELBENN IS COMING OVER THIS AFTERNOON WITH UNDYNE TO PICK IT UP!" Papyrus simply saw no reason to think this turn of events was strange. "OH, AND I BELIEVE HE WOULD LIKE TO SPEAK TO YOU AS WELL, BROTHER."

Now that was news his day could have done without. Sans didn't have much of a relationship with the police chief, and it was steadily growing worse. If Delbenn was up to something, and it somehow involved crushing Papyrus' dreams, that dude was seriously going to pay.

Pasting on a smile, Sans cocked his head, attempting to just look curious. "Me? When was this decided?"

"THIS MORNING. HE CALLED JUST AFTER EVERYONE LEFT. I TOLD HIM UNDYNE WAS GOING TO BE STOPPING IN FOR LUNCH, LIKE SHE USUALLY DOES, AND THAT I WAS SURE SHE WOULDN'T MIND HIM TAGGING ALONG BACK HERE TO SEE YOU."

That was laughable. Sans did not want to try and imagine what that ride would be like. It was obvious that, since Sans' interrogation, Undyne had not been on as friendly terms with Delbenn as she had been. Sans wasn't sure why, and he didn't want to know. He was too tired to really care anymore. Not about that.

Sans started to speak again when, like some smirking twist of fate, Redemption's doorbell gave a loud, musical chime. Sans had to stifle the urge to jump to his feet and run, a wave of panic nearly overtaking him needlessly. Somehow he managed to stay where he was, with only a flinch escaping, which, thankfully, Papyrus did not notice.

The taller skeleton, however, did jump to his feet, his face aglow with his usual cheer. "THAT MUST BE THEM NOW! COME IN!"

And in they came.

It satisfied some deep sore spot in Sans' soul to notice that the human who stepped over their threshold seemed almost as anxious as he was. Fully dressed in the traditional uniform, Delbenn looked so very out of place in the usually laid-back surroundings of Redemption's interior. Like a soldier standing in a beach house, he seemed far too formal. Papyrus was chattering away, welcoming their guest with his usual enthusiasm, with Undyne sliding in behind them with a sour look on her face. It was easy to see that she had neither enjoyed the ride home, nor the company she had kept while doing so. She had that tired, angry look that came with her usual pouting. Meaning that, whatever arguments they had had on the way, she had not won.

Delbenn seemed more intent on looking about him, as though searching for something and not bothering to put any effort into hiding the fact that he was. He took in their humble quarters like he was inspecting it and expecting at any moment for it to be condemn-worthy. It was rather rude and invading, made even more so when he seemed to have found what he was looking for. As soon as he spotted Sans, sitting as still and low in his kitchen chair as he dared, Delbenn stopped his investigation.

"-AND I FILLED IT ALL OUT THE WAY YOU INSTRUCTED," Papyrus finished, leading the man into the kitchen, Undyne still trailing behind. He swiped the paper off the table, regardless of the fact Sans had still had one hand on it, and handed it out to Delbenn in a flurry of pride. Delbenn took it with a smile, but it was easy to see that his focus was still on Sans, even as he spoke to the younger brother.

"That's great, Papyrus. Thank you. I will send this through and let you know of the results." His gaze remained fixed on Sans. "Would you mind if I spoke with your brother a moment?" He sent a glance toward Undyne, with an air of a disagreement that had already happened. "In private?"

Sans and Undyne both bristled at how dismissive of Papyrus Delbenn was being, but Papyrus seemed perfectly fine with the request. Sans was seriously regretting having not told his brother all that had happened down at the police station. Had Papyrus known, he wouldn't have been so willing to leave the two of them alone. Undyne, however, did know; and she looked properly unhappy with the idea.

"Frank..." her voice came out as a warning. But the police chief gave her a firm look.

"It will only be for a minute."

Undyne held the human's gaze for several tense moments, in which all her distrust and caution showed, before she gave a frustrated sigh.

"Fine. A minute." Her eyes shifted to Sans, and, though she didn't say anything, Sans knew she was informing him that all he would need to do was call her if anything went unfavorably. He answered her with a silent nod.

"NO PROBLEM!" Papyrus beamed. "I AM HELPING LADY TORIEL WITH THE LAUNDRY ANYWAY. I TOLD HER I'D HAVE IT DONE BY THE TIME SHE GETS BACK." He disappeared out of the kitchen and into the hall, his voice calling out one final comment. "IF YOU NEED ME, I'LL BE IN THE LAUNDRY ROOM!"

Slowly, Undyne followed after him, sending Delbenn a warning glare until she was out of sight.

With that, the kitchen was plunged into an uncomfortable silence. Silence in which Frank Delbenn stared down at Sans, reflecting, and Sans stared right back up at him, suspecting. Perhaps, had this whole mess been diverted, they might have been good friends. After all, the man had spunk and wit, or so Undyne had always told him, and that was something Sans could always respect in a person. But now, with threats and suspicions running ramped, feelings of possible friendship had been replaced with adversarial hostility. A hostility that was only just barely contained.

Delbenn looked weary and wary. While his uniform was the very essence of regulation, his eyes held a sort of hazed, tired glow. Like a man who has far too many problems on his plate. Sans could certainly relate with that.

The human, in turn, took in the skeleton's appearance. Sans looked rather pale, his bones having an almost sickly cream tint to them, far from the usual pristine white of before. Dark shadows beneath both eye sockets spoke of perhaps several bad nights of little or no sleep. Even those odd little lights that served as eyes seemed to be dulled and more unfocused than usual. He seemed to be very conscious of his arm, indicated by how he never allowed it to raise above the top of the table. Why, Delbenn had no idea, nor did he care to know.

"You look like h-"

"What are you playing at?" Sans demanded, interrupting without so much as a blink. He wasn't in any mood for pleasantries, and he wasn't in any mindset for skimming around the subject. Especially now that, somehow, Papyrus was involved.

Delbenn seemed to understand, or had maybe even expected his demand, and simply nodded with a sigh. Straightening and squaring his shoulders, he was instantly all business, sitting down in the chair across from Sans with a wary sense of submission. "I have come to tell you that all grievances against you regarding your little...incident, have been revoked."

Sans' suspicions lowered slightly, dissolved by shock. "...Revoked?"

"Yes. Those at the institute have decided to not press charges for damage. Not only that, but the Negotiations have been pushed through once again and will continue this coming Wednesday." Delbenn didn't exactly sound thrilled. "Though I have no idea why. I find it very strange that everything you did should be brushed under a rug, as though it never happened. I don't understand it."

Sans didn't either. At least, not as much as he would have liked. He knew that it must have been Professor Hornbern's doing, though the answer as to how escaped him. How could all of his mistakes just be swept 'under a rug'? That would take convincing not only the others in charge of the Negotiations, but a good deal of the other political heads in the city. Sans wasn't sure whether he should be grateful, or mortified. What kind of man was Hornbern that he had the ability to wipe someone's slate clean? Especially someone like him, who was not only a skeleton monster, but had also shown to be of considerable danger when he lost control. And who was to say it wouldn't happen again.

"While I plan to be keeping an eye on you," Delbenn informed darkly, his dark eyes never leaving Sans' face, "you are free to move about as you wish. You are no longer under house arrest."

Sans nodded slowly, his eyes falling to stare at the table. "Does anyone else know about this? Of my family I mean."

The man looked somewhat surprised by his choice of words. In fact, Sans was rather surprised himself. But he realized that, as different as they were, his ragtag group of friends were beginning to be very much a family to him.

"Undyne knows," Delbenn supplied, looking tired. Doubtless the fish-like monster had wanted to know exactly why and how that was possible, questions that Sans shared. She would have been suspicious, stiff, and stubborn.

"How can this be? Listen, I might be a monster and not used to you humans and your justice system, but I know a good deal about justice in general. What I did, whether I meant to or not, was still dangerous. How can it just be dismissed?"

Well, that drew out an interesting reaction. Delbenn looked well and truly taken back. He had probably expected Sans to react with a smirk and a few stinging words. He hadn't expected his puzzling orders to be questioned, not by the being they freed.

"You have Professor Hornbern to thank for that," he answered slowly. "He seemed to have some evidence that what happened was, indeed, an accident. Enough so that he was able to convince quite a few influential persons. They got you an official 'pardon', so to speak."

So, Hornbern really was holding up his side of the bargain. While relieved, Sans couldn't help the feeling of unease that swept over him. It was like in the movies when a character walks into a dark room, and while their back is turned the door slams shut by an unseen force. Leaving the character trapped. Now there really was no going back. If he tried, Hornbern's side of the deal would end; Sans knew it would. And then, in doing so, a lot of other things would be revealed, like his allowing the human to do...whatever to him. He couldn't let that get out, not because he cared about what the humans thought, but because of what his brother and friends would think.

Pap would be shattered; wondering why Sans would endanger himself when he knew how much Papyrus hated that.

Toriel would be upset, and worried beyond belief. She cared for nearly everyone with a motherly sense of protection, and he was no exception. She would blame herself for not having helped him sooner.

Alphys would probably cry and get all depressed. He couldn't let that happen; not after she was doing so much better.

Asgore would probably be disappointed.

Undyne would be furious.

And Frisk-

Sans felt his soul fill with a cold, sinking sense of terror. It spread through every single one of his bones and made him want to crawl into the flames of some bonfire somewhere, just to feel warm again.

Frisk would reset.

He was almost certain of it. The kid was too caring; too close to him. He never should have let her get so close. Never should have let her get so close that seeing him go through anything beyond what she could help made her feel like starting over was the only choice. Sure, she hadn't done it back when they had first come to the Surface and he had broken down about the resets. But that was because that was something that could be _fixed_. Something that could get _better_. This...

This was irreversible.

"Mr. Sans?"

The skeleton jolted slightly, coming out of his thoughts and turning back to Delbenn. The man didn't look concerned, exactly; but he did seem a little more conscious of the smile Sans realized he had nearly dropped. Pasting it back in place he answered quickly with the most neutral thing he could come up with.

"I see." Followed by, "And it's just 'Sans'."

That, at least, seemed to convince the human to continue.

"While I am obligated to follow my orders, I am not releasing my watch on you. You are free to come and go as you please, but be aware that you are under observation in the strictest sense. One mistake and you'll be right back where we started." He stared into Sans sockets, firm, but not cruel. "Is that understood?"

"...Perfectly."

"Good."

"But you still haven't answered my question," Sans directed quickly, stopping Delbenn cold even as the man was rising from the chair to his feet, hands still braced on the table. "What are you playing at?"

Delbenn frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, why are you all suddenly so eager for Paps to be an officer? I'd think that that would be a pretty big step of faith; especially after all that happened last week."

"...Ah."

Now Delbenn understood. Even without knowing Sans very well, he had come to realize quite quickly that the skeleton was extremely invested in the safety and well-being of his brother. Paranoia wasn't too far a stretch from an accurate description. Of course, he wasn't much better these days.

"Your brother was requested in," he answered curtly. "Papyrus is a fine young...man. He was a possible candidate long before this; he only needed a non-monster reference. Now he's got one."

Sans felt a chill run down his spine. "...And who would that be?"

"Professor Hornbern."

Delbenn rose the rest of the way to his feet, adjusting his uniform before giving Sans a nod. The skeleton returned it, rather dazed. The human took his leave, meeting Undyne almost the minute his feet hit the tiled floor of the hall.

"I release your friend of your custody," Delbenn instructed briefly. "But be aware that the next time something happens it will take far more than a few favorable votes to clear his slate." He gave Sans another glance, addressing him directly. "You're walking on thin ice. Careful that it doesn't break."

With that, he headed toward the door.

Papyrus nearly ran into him in the hall, his arms straining to carry a basket of folded laundry. "OH! LEAVING ALREADY?" he beamed, just a hint of disappointment in his tone.

"Yes, I am afraid so."

"WELL, THANK YOU FOR COMING!"

"Thank you for having me. Have a good rest of the day, Papyrus."

"I WILL!"

With a final note, the door shut and Delbenn was gone, leaving Sans and Undyne standing uncomfortably in the kitchen in silence until Papyrus waltzed in. He seemed very much himself, all smiles and completely ignorant of the other twos' moods. Or, perhaps, he was simply trying to raise them back up by ignoring them. It was a tactic that sometimes worked. _Sometimes_.

"HE IS VERY NICE. HE WILL MAKE A GOOD CAPTAIN." Papyrus beamed at Undyne, a small fraction of fond sadness breaking through in his voice. "THOUGH, HE WILL NEVER BE AS GOOD A CAPTAIN AS YOU WERE."

Undyne forced a gentle smile, her hands clutching at her sides stiffly. Sans watched her with a hint of curiosity. Strange; she seemed upset, though not at Papyrus.

"Thanks." She pointed to the basket of clean, folded laundry. "Need some help?"

Papyrus shook his head, already half way across the kitchen and up the stairs. "NO, I'VE GOT IT. THANK YOU, THOUGH!"

And so, again, Sans and Undyne were left alone. And that silence stretched on for several minutes before Sans decided to give the push that he knew was inevitable.

"So, uh, guess I'm off the hook."

Wrong thing to say, going by the glare his words received.

"You," she gritted heatedly, "are far from 'off the hook'." She seated herself rather heavily in the chair opposite him, all the energy seeming to drain away, as did the anger. "Listen," she began again, softer this time. "I'm glad it looks like this is all just going to blow over, but I want you to know I'm not dropping it so easily."

"Course you're not," Sans muttered, sounding not the least bit surprised.

"I'm going to be watching out for any more of your little accidents, Sans," she snapped briefly. "You and I both know you tend to lock stuff away so we don't know something's wrong. But I tell you I want to know what happened at the Negotiations, and I'm not going to just let that all fall through. Not because I'm trying to make your life any more miserable..." Her gaze rose to meet his, looking kinder and more concerned. "I just want to make sure you're not a danger...To anyone. Not even yourself."

...Ooookay. So, this conversation had taken a turn Sans hadn't expected. Undyne wasn't one for the more tender, heartfelt talks; and neither was he. In fact, the two of them tended to avoid it like the plague. It only proved just how shaken up by all of this Undyne really was. Otherwise she would have just dropped it and taken things as they had come. Sans fervently wished she still would, even though he knew she wouldn't.

"I'd...like to be sure of that too," Sans admitted slowly, keeping his eyes locked with hers just so she would be able to read his unease. He swallowed, even though the action wasn't really necessary. "But I also think this whole incident is better left in the past. Everything's working out fine. Why tamper with it?"

Undyne frowned. " _Is_ everything working out fine?"

Sans slumped in his seat, reaching a hand up from under the table to rub at his face. He was careful to make sure it wasn't his injured one. "I don't know, Undyne," he breathed tiredly, finally breaking eye contact. "I'm just so...worn out. I goofed up. I'm sick of thinking about it. Can't we just drop it?"

If the situation had been any different - if Sans had not all at once looked so very small and frail; if he hadn't started shaking and shivering in a just barely visible way - Undyne might have refused. But he was. He was shaking minutely, his bones and frame looking as though a stray feather could snap them. And Undyne didn't have the heart to be the feather of doom to breathe out his sentence.

Undyne shuddered, though she didn't know why. Her instincts yelled at her to push harder; drag Sans kicking and screaming if need be, if that was what it took to force him to tell her the truth. She knew there was more to this. Now that she knew him better, knew what he was like when he held things inside, she could spot it from a mile away. In Snowdin, how had she ever missed it? It took the little skeleton having a massive breakdown on the Surface that first year of freedom to realize just how badly he needed help. She had promised herself then and there that she would be ready, in case anything ever hurt him like that again. A now a needling, nagging feeling was digging away at her soul, and she hated it. Because she couldn't bring herself to be the one to push him to the breaking point.

She'd just have to wait for him to do that himself, and be ready and waiting to catch him when he stumbled.

The fish-like monster sighed. "Alright," she intoned lowly. "Alright, we'll drop it. For now."

Sans relaxed, his face practically signing a heavy 'thank you'. Even his smile seemed genuine.

Undyne only wished she could believe it.


	13. Shaken, Not Stirred

The rest of the day went pretty smoothly. Undyne left after a quick lunch, having to jog to the bus stop since she hadn't left with Delbenn. That left only Sans and Papyrus at Redemption. It was a comforting feeling, being just the two of them like in the old days underground. Most times, Sans didn't like to be reminded of then, but today it was like falling into a comfortable routine.

Papyrus was very lenient, allowing Sans to curl up wherever he wanted to sleep, since he was still worried over Sans' behavior that morning. Switching back and forth between making sure Sans ate and was comfortable, the tall skeleton continued to do things around the house. Just like he used to. It seemed to be making Papyrus more relaxed as well. In fact, the more Sans thought about it, the more 'old days'-like it felt. Pap running around doing chores, him snoozing on the couch, and the prospect of Papyrus joining the local authorities thrumming in every word the younger brother spoke; those days were a fond memory.

Now that was something Sans wasn't so sure about. As the thought crossed his mind, he frowned up at the ceiling from his place on the sofa. A few weeks ago, Sans might have been almost as excited about Pap joining the police force as Papyrus obviously was himself. But now, after everything that had happened, was _still_ happening, Sans wasn't so sure he wanted his brother involved with the humans. Especially since Hornbern had stepped in and made everything possible. Sans didn't want to be indebted to the man. He didn't want _Papyrus_ indebted to the man. But what could he say? Papyrus wanted this so badly, and the opportunity had never come up before and who knew if it ever would again. It wasn't like Sans could share his concerns, because all of them, somehow or other, led back to the fact that he was letting Hornbern do tests on him. Secretly. That wouldn't go over well with any of his family, of that Sans was sure.

The small skeleton sighed, shifting around so that he was lying on his side, facing the couch cushions. "This is so messed up," he muttered softly.

"WHAT WAS THAT, SANS? DID YOU SAY SOMETHING?"

Sans startled, twisting around to face his brother just as Papyrus flopped down onto the couch beside him. Papyrus was smiling, but his face still held a little concern.

"DID YOU GET ANY REST?"

"A little," Sans responded; glad that the first inquiry had been forgotten. And it wasn't a lie. He was pretty sure he had dozed off a couple of times. Not nearly as much as he needed, but he could feel his stats repairing themselves. That was good, because if Papyrus followed up on his insistence to have Alphys check him over, it would be easier to explain slightly depleted stats than ones where there was obviously something drastically wrong. "What time is it?"

"GOING ON FOUR O'CLOCK."

_Hmm. The others would be home soon._

"Who's making dinner tonight?"

Papyrus considered it, and then smiled. "UNDYNE." He frowned as Sans gave a groan. "BROTHER, BE NICE! UNDYNE IS A VERY FINE COOK!"

"If you like everything smothered in salt," Sans retorted.

Undyne had a strange habit of putting large amounts of sodium in everything she made. Toriel had been trying for weeks to get her to realize the extra salt wasn't needed, nor was it healthy, but nothing had worked. Sans blamed it on the fact that she was fish-like in nature. 'Must be a salt-water fish'.

"IT IS TRUE THAT HER FOOD IS VERY...FLAVORFUL," Papyrus contended, "BUT IT ISN'T TOO BAD ONCE YOU GET USED TO IT."

Sans shrugged lazily as he pulled himself up so he was sitting. "Eh, I suppose. She better get home soon. We eat at six."

Papyrus smirked. "THE ONLY TIME THAT YOU ARE NEVER LATE."

"Yeah, well, maybe this time I'll pass. Not too hungry."

"BUT SANS, YOU'VE ONLY HAD A FEW THINGS TO EAT TODAY! YOU HAVE TO KEEP UP YOUR STRENGTH!"

"Okay."

"IT'S IMPORTANT!"

"Okay."

"...SANS, ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING?"

"Yup."

Papyrus stared at his brother's grinning face before throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. He looked like he was about to say more when both skeletons heard the front door open.

"Hello? We are home," Toriel's voice called. They heard the sound of shoes being kicked off and the scuffling of socked feet on the floor. Frisk sounded a little noisier than usual.

Papyrus jumped to his feet, leaving Sans to get comfortable in the cushions of the couch once more. It was warm and safe, something that Sans appreciated. Especially after the night before. He sat there and listened, unconcerned at first, until he heard his brother exclaim in a distressed voice.

"OH, NO! WHAT IS WRONG WITH THE HUMAN FRISK?!"

Sans sat up with a jolt, his short legs already swinging over to try and make contact with the floor. The others would have been impressed with how quickly he made it across the living room and into the hall, had they been there to witness it. Stopping in the hallway, he took in the scene as quickly as he could.

Toriel was standing by the door, helping a rather pale and tired looking Frisk get her coat off. She looked awful. She looked like he felt. Papyrus was fawning over her, his observation of Frisk's wellbeing taking the shape of worry.

"It is alright, Papyrus," Toriel soothed in a calm, quiet tone, the tone she used when she was trying to quiet Papyrus' loud, boisterous voice. "She has simply caught a cold. That is all. I am going to bring her up to bed. A little rest and I am sure she will be fine." She continued to help Frisk ease out of her school wear.

Sans slowly made his way forward, his hands digging their way into his jacket. It wasn't his blue one, but rather a sort of 'emergency stand in' that Toriel had bought him a few months back. He had found it in his closet shortly after Undyne had left, glad to have something covering him again, so that the horrible scratch Hornbern had made was out of sight. Sans could only assume that his favorite, blue jacket was still in Hornbern's office. He'd have to pick it up...the next time he went in for a 'session'.

"Hey there, kiddo," the skeleton murmured gently, watching Frisk with soft eye lights and a sense of hesitant concern. "Not feel'n too good?" The child shook her head. "Symptoms?"

"She has a fever," Toriel cut in, answering for the human. "And a sore throat."

Frisk coughed harshly, much to Toriel's concern.

"And apparently she also has a cough." She took Frisk's hand and slipped it into Sans' with an almost practiced ease. "Bring her up to her room, would you, Sans? I will warm her up something warm for her throat and bring her some medicine."

Sans chuckled lowly at the face Frisk pulled, but nodded in agreement. "Sure thing, Tori. Come on, Frisk."

He led her by the hand into the kitchen and then up the steps, at a slow pace just as much for his benefit as it was for her. Her hands were shaking, but felt extraordinarily warm. Rather alarmingly so. Sans had only seen Frisk get sick once or twice in this timeline. The first time had been shortly after they had arrived on the Surface. He had been so afraid then, afraid that Frisk might panic and reset. Or might just reset because she didn't want to be stuck in bed, or something just as trivial. He himself had panicked, and it had taken the others quite some time to calm him down. It helped that they knew about the resets at that point. Otherwise he might have done something rash, and then a reset would have been certain.

Sans led the child up to her room, helping her settle on the bed and going to her bureau and finding a clean set of pajamas. He handed them to her and then turned his back to face the far wall while she changed.

"Gee, kid. I know Tori likes you to share, but I doubt she wanted you sharing germs with those kids at school."

Frisk shrugged into the cool, clean fabric of her over-sized t-shirt, sending Sans' back a glare. "Well, I didn't do it on purpose." She slipped on the shorts. "And besides, I think mom meant _me_ sharing with them, not the other way around." She gave a small cough, struggling to end it there so she wouldn't launch into a full coughing fit. "You can turn around now."

Sans chuckled, turning and helping the girl into bed. He tucked the sheets up to her chest, before running a hand through her bangs fondly. Frisk gazed up at him with large eyes, a sudden uncertainty rising within her. She pulled an arm free of the covers, resting her hand over his idle one on the bed.

"Are you okay?"

The skeleton gave an amused huff, but Frisk couldn't help but notice that his gaze wouldn't meet hers. "I'm not the one sick in bed, kiddo."

"No," Frisk admitted, "but you haven't quite been yourself lately. You've looked tired. More so than you are even with the nightmares."

"Well, I guess I am feeling a little-"

"Bone tired," Frisk finished, a little more harshly than she intended. "I know."

There was a long silence between them, wherein Sans pulled his hand out from under hers, his eyes fixing on the floor in a mix of guilt and shame. He knew he couldn't fool Frisk. Not Frisk. She knew him in ways no one else did. She had seen him at his best...and his worst. She could tell when something was wrong, and knew the long list of things it could be. Given long enough, she could probably guess his deepest demons and fears. She already knew most of them. But there was no way she was going to be able to deduce what was happening now. Oh, she might figure it had to do with the incident at the Negotiations, or the resets, or the fact that it seemed like for every step forward he always seemed to make two steps back, and she'd be right on all those accounts. But there was no way on earth, in heaven, or hell that she'd be able to guess that he was subjecting himself to Hornbern's tests. To allow himself to be forced magically to his limits like the night before...And who knew whether the tests would stop there. He knew, somehow, deep down that they wouldn't. They would grow worse. But he was willing to endure it if it was truly going to help his family. He'd do anything to keep them happy. Because if they were all happy, then Frisk was happy. And if Frisk was happy, there was no fear of resets.

Frisk watched him, frowning sadly. "I won't reset," she insisted gently, almost in a whisper, and Sans jumped slightly, for a brief moment wondering how she knew what he was thinking. Not that that was terribly hard to do. He was sort of a one track mind kind of guy.

"Heh." This time it was Sans who reached to cover her hand. "I know," he replied softly. "I know. Don't mind me. I've still got a lot of junk to work through."

The child nodded, giving him a loving smile. "And we're here to help you."

Sans nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I know that too." He gave her hand a squeeze. "Get some rest, kid. The Negotiations are back up and running you know. You're gonna need your strength to fix the mess I made." The last part came out a little bitter, but he couldn't really help it. He buried the feeling immediately, giving Frisk a smile as he let go of her hand and straightened back up from her bedside.

He started walking away, making it to the bedroom door before Frisk's voice called out gently. "I love you."

He paused, glancing back and trying to hold back the flood of emotions that threatened to overtake him. He tried to answer once, then twice, before he succeeded in giving a watery, "I love ya too, Frisk," and gently closed the door of her room as he exited out into the hallway.

Sans stood there, breathing hard against the almost uncontrollable urge to cry, one hand still gripping the doorknob and the other rising up to grip the fabric over his chest. "Keep it together," he murmured insistently. "Keep it together keepittogetherkeepittogeth-"

"Sans?"

The fist over his chest tightened as his eyes, which he hadn't even realized he was squeezing shut, snapped open. Toriel's worried gaze met his own, and she knelt down in front of him, setting a bowl of steaming soup and a disposable medicine cup full of cherry medicine down on the carpet so she could reach out to him. Instinctively, Sans flinched back.

Toriel stuttered to a stop, freezing and watching him carefully. She had learned a lot about trauma in the last year, having to deal with the reset's effects on both Frisk and Sans. She knew that sometimes everything would just become too much. Sans had described it as feeling like the world had suddenly got far too loud, too real, and too much to take in. Frisk had agreed, though her attacks were never nearly as bad as Sans'. She and the others had failed to notice in the past, resulting in some rather tense moments for everyone involved, but now that they had memorized the signs, it was easy to spot.

Like right now.

"Sans, can you hear me?"

A shaky nod. He wasn't meeting her gaze.

"I'm going to count backwards from fifty. I want you to do it with me. Alternating, correct? Alright." She hardened her voice, so that the words were all that came through, no emotion at all. It was a system they had come up with. As odd as it seemed, when Sans became unstable, his mind was far more open to numbers and such. Puns, strangely enough, never did anything. "Fifty."

A pause, filled with labored breathing. Then, shakily, he complied. "...F-Forty-n-nine."

"Forty-eight."

"F-forty...seven..."

"Forty-six."

"Forty-f-five."

And so it went. They didn't have to reach all the way to zero to get him back in control, but Toriel always found those moments in between extremely concerning. She hated seeing Sans like this, all shaking and rattling bones, barely able to talk himself down from panic. She hated it, but knew enough to wait for him to calm before trying to figure out what had caused the attack.

Finally, Sans' breathing evened out and the hand gripping his chest had loosened. Then and only then, when the dimness in his eye lights fell away and he released a small sigh, did Toriel lurch forward to gently wrap the skeleton in her arms. She ran a hand over the back of his skull, shushing him when he tried to explain himself, the sound that came out sounding strained.

"Just breathe, Sans. Just for a moment. Shh. Just for a moment." She waited for his breathing to quiet down again, hoping that her next question wouldn't trigger anything more. "It was a hard day today, was it not?" she asked gently. "Papyrus said you slept quite late this morning. You have not done that for a long time, my friend. Since...the Underground."

"Y-Yeah. Heh. Sorry I'm so b-broken."

He flinched immediately as the words hissed through his teeth, but flinched even harder as he felt the mood dip to a cold chill around him. He looked up at Toriel, pushing out of her embrace enough to see her expression. It wasn't pretty, and matched his fear like two pieces of a puzzle. He realized with guilt that his words had just affected her profoundly; enough to cause a drop in her warm, inner magic that always seemed to radiate from her. As she opened her mouth to speak, her voice took on a tone he couldn't quite place. She was worried about him, but there was something else in her voice. A sorrow almost like pain...

He quickly looked away.

"Sans, look at me."

He really didn't want to. His emotional walls were still a mess, and he was pretty sure Hornbern hadn't been helping that any. If he looked up into a caring face, something that he longed for, just to feel love and hope, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep what remained of those walls from collapsing.

"Sans. Look at me."

Her voice was firmer now; the kind of voice she used when she was giving an order. And...he couldn't disobey that.

Sans turned his head, giving the ex-queen his full, if not unstable, attention. What he saw in her face almost melted his soul completely. Her eyes were understanding, gentle, loving, and motherly; everything his time since the incident had robbed from him. Her thumb rubbed over the bone of his hand in a soothing gesture as she gazed right into his eyes without a single hesitation.

"You are not broken."

He almost laughed. "Could have fooled me," he retorted bitterly, still unable to look away. She had him pinned by that gaze of hers, and he faintly wondered if this was some sort of magic he hadn't known she had.

Toriel frowned, squeezing his hand a little more firmly. "This whole thing has been very hard on you. And I do not just mean what happened at the Negotiations. You have been through...more than most can stand. You do not deserve it, and despite what you may believe, it has not broken you."

That was hard to believe. That first week on the Surface had been a nightmare. He had broken down so fast, and had literally scared his family beyond words. They hadn't understood at first. They hadn't known what to do. And he had been far too out of it to explain. They could have left him like that; walked out of his life and it might have been better for them. But no...they had stayed, and tried to help him. They _had_ helped him. It was the only thing that had saved him in the end. But now things were unraveling again. The proverbial Band-Aid over the old doubts and fears was peeling off, and he sincerely doubted another simple patch-up would suffice.

Toriel continued before he could protest. "You have been dragged through pain and grief countless times over; alone. And if you think that we are going to let you distance yourself from us and take on these things on your own, you are mistaken. There is no need for you to do that to yourself." She tried to meet Sans' eyes, but he had finally managed to look away and was stubbornly keeping them fixed on the floor. Toriel sighed, deciding to take the initiative and snatch him back up into a hug. She could feel him tense again, before he melted once more into the embrace.

Sans gripped her tighter, pressing into her soft, motherly hold, something he had never had when he was a baby bones. "I-I'm just so tired, Tori," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. "It's been...I've had a bad time these last few days."

Her hand moved down to his back, rubbing soothingly. "I know. But it is over. Papyrus told me that all the charges against you have been cleared. The Negotiations are going to start up again." He could almost feel her smiling in relief. "I do not know what we would do without Professor Hornbern."

It took all of Sans' strength not to flinch at those words. He could easily imagine what a world without that man might be like. Better, at least in his case. Yes, the man had gotten him out of a jam, but he wasn't so sure it was worth the trouble he was now in.

"Sans, what happened just now?"

Her voice was like the fall of a blade. The thought made Sans feel sick, and he quickly focused on the question itself. He analyzed it, taking in and calculating how many different ways he could answer. But this time, seeing as it was no way connected to his real problems, Sans decided to go with the truth.

"The...ah, the kiddo said something that...heh...just made me feel a whole lot all at once."

Toriel nodded, pulling back to try and meet his eyes. She did, for a moment, as Sans tried very hard to keep his gaze steady. "She told you that she loved you, did she not?"

Sans almost choked, feeling the emotions returning, though, thankfully, not quite as strong. "Y-Yeah."

The boss monster gave him a gentle, patient smile. "Then I think you are in luck. For if there is one who is so determined to love and care for you as Frisk, I believe that everything will always be alright in the end. Do you not think so, Sans?"

He nodded, more to try and bring the conversation to a close. He could feel his mental and emotional control slowly slipping back into place. The attack was over, he just needed to wiggle away from Toriel's motherly coddling.

"Good." Toriel stood to her full height, taking back up the bowl of soup and the medicine. "Now, if you will head down stairs, there is some extra soup for the rest of us. The others should be home soon. I will be down again once Frisk is settled." And with that, the two parted ways, Toriel into Frisk's room, and Sans shuffling down the hall.

* * *

Toriel had been right of course, the others must have arrived home just after she had climbed the stairs with Frisk's comforts. When Sans finally made his way to the kitchen, having stopped off at the bathroom to splash water on his face, Alphys and Undyne were already seated and eating, chatting away about some new anime trailer that must have come out within the last few days. Asgore was assisting Papyrus in dishing out a few more bowls of soup, the large monster's eyes widening along with a smile as he spotted Sans hovering over near the stairs.

"Well, hello there, Sans," his deep voice thrummed pleasantly. "Care to join us?"

Sans smiled wider, stepping out onto the kitchen tiles and into the warm light of the kitchen lamps. "Eh, why not? If Toriel made it I'm sure it's _soup_ -er."

His puns were greeted with a mix of chuckles and moans. And it felt _good_. How long had it been since he had cracked a decent pun in the last few days? He wasn't sure, but he could almost feel the healing effect it had on his soul. Something normal, and right, and the way it was supposed to be. He could even hear, to varying degrees, levels of relief from the others, even Undyne whose eyes were rolled way back in her head in annoyance. It was as though they could sense it too. Like maybe there might be some hope left in the world.

As Sans settled into a chair next to Alphys, Papyrus carefully set a bowl in front of his brother, secretly relieved that Sans was actually sitting down to a meal. And, better yet, Toriel had made it, which meant that it more than likely held a certain amount of healing magic, which the boss monster tended to slip into the things she cooked. She said it kept them all extra healthy, and Papyrus agreed.

"So," Asgore smiled gently, sitting down on Sans' other side. "I hear things have finally been worked out with the Negotiations. I am relieved to say the least."

Sans tried not to let his wince show. "Yeah, me too."

"I think it's got a catch," Undyne growled from Alphy's other side. "I mean, I'm glad and all, but it seems a little too forgiving."

Papyrus came to join them, frowning slightly as he sat across from his brother. "MAYBE, BUT COULDN'T IT JUST BE THAT THINGS ARE FINALLY GOING IN OUR FAVOR? SURE, WE'VE MET SOME NOT SO NICE HUMANS, BUT THEY'RE NOT ALL BAD."

Undyne looked to him. "So, you're saying we should just go with it?"

The tall skeleton shrugged. "YEAH,"

"I do not see where we have much of a choice," Asgore added. "It seems that the humans have extended both mercy and faith to us. It would be wrong not to return it." The others muttered in agreement, even Undyne, though it was more of a grumble.

"Heh," Sans huffed, staring down at his bowl, the soup reflecting the kitchen light above the table. "And I'll stay as far out of everything as I can so I don't mess it up."

The table grew silent at once, the awkwardness that had been an underlying theme since Sans had entered the kitchen was all at once smothering in its intensity. The sound of metal spoons against chinaware stilled and nearly everyone at the table found the tabletop suddenly very interesting. Sans mentally berated himself. Why did he do that?! Why couldn't he just stay quiet?!

Papyrus raised his gaze up slowly, expression one of sorrow. "...SANS-"

And suddenly it was too much. Sans stood up from the table, excusing himself, having not even taken a bite of his meal. "Yeah, I think I'm gonna-"

SLAM!

Everyone startled at the loud noise as Undyne suddenly stood up and crashed her palm down against the table hard enough to spill a little soup over the edges of the bowls. "Sans, SIT DOWN!"

Eye sockets wide, Sans plopped back down in his seat and sat perfectly still. It wasn't unusual for Undyne to get mad and loud, but it was very rare that she was so direct _in_ that anger. The table remained quiet in shocked uncertainty as the fish-like monster pushed her chair back with a screech of wood against tile, followed by her heavy steps as she stomped around Alphys chair to stand beside Sans' own. She reached out and snatched up the skeleton's discarded spoon with one hand, and grabbed Sans' wrist with the other, before slamming the former into the later. The force of the motion made Sans wince.

Undyne stepped back, her glaring eye taking in his puzzled expression. "Alright, here's how it's gonna be, punk!" she snapped, her voice resembling how she used to sound when addressing those under her command in the Royal Guard. "We're sick of worrying about you! You haven't eaten a solid meal in days, and don't bother arguing that point because I've been count'n!" She pointed to the bowl of cooling soup. "Now, you're going to sit there and eat, even if I have to shove it down whatever sorry excuse you have for a throat! We're going to eat, then we're gonna go into that living room and watch some anime. And when that's done, we're all going to sit down and talk this through. Is that understood?!"

Sans, looking paler than normal, gave one solid nod.

Undyne's expression softened slightly. At least, for her it was softer, if you took into account that she almost always looked just about ready to tear peoples' heads off. "Good. 'Cause this can't go on, Sans."

"W-We know you feel responsible f-for what happened at the Institute," Alphys spoke up gently, her own hand shifting against the table until it lay over Sans' own, on the hand now gripping the spoon. "B-But punishing yourself isn't...isn't going to make it any better. Y-You were hurt. But things are better now. Th-The only one still hurting you is...is you."

Sans blinked at her slowly, wishing with all his soul that what she was saying was true. For them, he realized, it was over. For him, it was an ongoing issue. But that didn't give him the right to make them suffer along with him. Sans gave a sigh. He really was losing his game. Back in the Underground he had suffered more than he had ever suffered above ground, and he had managed to keep it perfectly hidden. Or maybe it was the fact that the same few days just repeated over and over again, and no one ever had enough time to realize there was something wrong. For them it was just as though life was life, not the never ending torture he had known it for. It wasn't until the days stretched into weeks without reset that they had finally realized something wasn't quite right.

"She is right, Sans."

The skeleton turned, finding that Toriel must have come downstairs during their whole little drama. She was standing there, empty soup bowl in her hands and a look on her face that said she was backing Undyne up this time. Great. Witnesses to what was probably going to be two breakdowns in one night.

"We just want you to be okay," Toriel continued, placing the bowl in the sink before coming over to stand behind Papyrus. Sans suddenly realized how tired and worn his brother looked. "You have let us help you before. Let us keep doing it, Sans. Please."

All eyes were on him now, his posture resembling a dog thoroughly beaten, and the spoon still clutched unused in his hand, just as Undyne had placed it. Was this going to become a thing now? How much embarrassment and humiliation he could take? Though he knew they meant well. He knew they just wanted to help, and that was what was making this so hard. He _wanted_ their help. _Desperately_. In fact, at this point there was very little keeping him from spilling the whole deal with Hornbern...but...But. He couldn't. He just couldn't.

"SANS?"

Sans looked to his brother's pleading face, mentally hating himself for the lies he knew were going to continue to come out of his mouth. He blinked again, multiple times, probably looking like the idiot he felt he was. Undyne was still standing at his side, arms on her hips and staring at him. Alphys still hand her hand wrapped around his. Asgore was a strong, quiet presence to his left. And Papyrus and Toriel stared at him head on, both sets of eyes filled with love and compassion.

He tried to speak, found he couldn't and cleared his voice, before he let out a small, tight sentence. "I thought we were going to talk _after_ dinner."

Toriel nodded. "If you will let us take care of you first."

"Eat up, short stack," Undyne added, almost encouragingly, tapping a sharp nail against the ceramic bowl.

Still a little dazed, Sans finally moved, dipping the spoon into the bowl. A little more uncertainly than they would have liked it, but it was a start. Smiling slightly in triumph to one another, the rest of the monsters settled back down to supper, starting up conversations on how each of their days had been.

* * *

The sound of overly dramatic credit music was playing in the background when Sans felt someone nudging him awake. He was warm, and cozy, and had actually managed to doze off into a nightmare-less sleep. He blinked, coming closer to wakefulness and finding that the entire atmosphere around him seemed calm and comfortable. His bones didn't ache with the exhaustion and stress that they had before. He felt fresh and, perhaps most importantly, back in control of himself.

"Sans?"

He felt something soft brush against the back of his skull, soothing in its touch.

"Are you awake, my friend?" Must be Tori. Only she used 'my friend' as a fond nickname that he knew of.

He blinked again. "...Mmyeah? S'pose so..."

She chuckled deeply, and he realized that he must be pressed against her somehow, because he felt the laugh vibrate all through him. That woke him up fully, and he sat up, finding himself sunk deep in the cushions of their couch in the living room, firmly snugged in between Papyrus and Toriel. Alphys, Undyne, and Asgore were still sitting where they had been when they had first started the movie. Alphys and Undyne were nestled on the floor, where they had brought down every pillow and blanket they owned, while Asgore occupied the recliner in the corner over by the lamp.

Sans took them all in at a glance, continuing to try and push himself a little further out of the warm, cushioned pit her had snuggled into in the sofa. "Ah...Heh, Hey, guys."

It was all coming back to him now. They had made him eat a healthy meal, which, in all honesty, had done wonders for his still shay magic. Then they had all filed into the living room and Undyne had picked out an anime to watch. They had plopped him down and hemmed him in on all sides, forcing the comfort and love on him until he had given in, falling asleep before the beginning credits had even ended.

"'Hey' to you as well," Asgore beamed gently, but with an underlying sense of caution, like he was afraid of breaking something. "We...thought it best to wake you. If we are to do as we...planned."

Still a little foggy with sleep, Sans merely cocked his head. "...Planned?"

"The talk," Undyne cut in, though not unkindly. "You remember our little dinner time deal, right?" She actually managed a sharp, toothy smirk. "Or do I have to shove another spoon in your hand to jog your memory?"

"Oh." _Ooh_. Right. Shoot. " _Shoot_."

Undyne actually chuckled, turning an amused eye to the others in the room. "There. That did it."

"Do you want to sit here, Sans?" Toriel inquired gently, "Or do you wish to take this elsewhere?"

Sans could feel the loving safety of his brother leaning against him in comfort, deciding easily. "Here." If he was going to be dragged through emotional duress, he might as well be comfortable.

Toriel nodded. "Very well. Now, to begin."

She shifted slightly, so that she was sitting more on the edge of the couch than on it, making it easier to see Sans' face, which grinned up at her uncertainly. Toriel had gotten quite good at ready that smile. Most would have claimed that it never wavered, but she and those closest had learned that Sans was actually quite expressive, if you knew what to look for. And her knowledge on that subject told her immediately that their friend was extremely nervous.

"Sans," she instructed. "How do you feel?"

"Fine," was the quick and almost automatic answer, causing everyone to frown.

Undyne rolled her eyes. "No, you dork! Ugh. She means tell us exactly how you're feeling right now."

Sans released an anxious chuckle, his smile widening, though it looked more like a grimace. "Heh. Well, warm." His shoulders relaxed a little. "Safe."

It still wasn't really what they had meant, but to hear him confess, so openly, that they made him feel safe, stole any indignation from them.

"Alright. How about a little deeper than that." Toriel's smile faded slightly. "How do you feel about the incident?"

Sans let out a short bark of laughter that surprised the others as well as himself, before he shrugged, leaning further back against the cushions as though he hoped they might help hide him. "We're really going to do this, huh?" he asked weakly.

Toriel kept her gaze locked with his. "If this is the only way we can help you, then yes."

The diminutive skeleton gave a sigh, defeated. "I feel...lost." Their souls all sank as he continued, each word weighing on them heavily. "I don't know what happened, and I don't know why I lost control, but it scares the heck out of me. I feel g-guilty, because I know all that mess with the Negotiations was my fault. And...s-some of that old h-hopelessness is back, like back when we lived in the...in the Underground."

Oh, there was so much more he wanted to add to that honest list of hurts. Trapped, hurt, terrified, and strained were only a few that came to mind, but all of them connected to Hornbern, and he couldn't go into that. Not now. Maybe never. He couldn't.

Sans felt long, bony arms wrap around him, Papyrus pulling him gently closer to him. "BROTHER...WHY DO YOU ALWAYS KEEP THESE THINGS TO YOURSELF? WHY DO WE ALWAYS HAVE TO FORCE YOU TO TELL US ANYTHING?"

More guilt. "...Because I figure it isn't fair that you guys should have to suffer, after all you've been through."

"All _we've_ been through?!" Undyne drawled, one eye blown wide in disbelief. "Sans, we don't even _remember_ the resets! You _do_. I think you're the one who needs to be handled with caution, punk!"

"Heh. Yeah. Another mistake on my part." Sans curled in on himself. "I make a lot of those."

"NO MORE THAN THE REST OF US," Papyrus insisted, holding his brother just a tad bit tighter. "IT'S JUST THAT YOU TEND TO FOCUS ON THEM A LOT MORE THAN WE DO."

"That's it!"

Undyne's shout was enough to startle all of them, with Toriel and Papyrus blinking rapidly before shushing her, reminding them all that Frisk was sleeping upstairs. The fish-like monster lowered her volume, but did not lose any of her enthusiasm.

"That's it!," she hissed excitedly. "Pap, you're a genius!" She shuffled closer to the couch, glancing from one individual to the next. "We need a vacation! We need to go somewhere where we can sit back, be ourselves, and get Sans back on his feet again!" She beamed at them, teeth flashing brilliantly as she basked in the glory of her plan.

There was a pause, before Toriel spoke up, rather reluctantly. "...Well, that is an idea. We have all been far too tense, you most of all, Sans." The more she considered it, the more the plan sounded like a good idea. "But where would we go?"

"H-How about the O-Outer Borders?" Alphys asked shyly.

Sans recalled rather dazedly that the Outer Borders was the region where all the other monsters from the mountain were currently housed. The humans had been fine with them coming and going from Ebott City, but until the Negotiations were sorted through, they would not be living within the city limits. Hence the creation of the Outer Borders. It was little more than a large, semi-permanent encampment that had slowly developed into a village of sorts. After being on the Surface for a while, the monsters had realized that they couldn't simply rely on the Negotiations running its course quickly. Homes were erected, shops were established, and all manner of things had been dragged up from inside the mountain to make it as much like home as they could. It had turned into a fairly nice place, with Mettaton's flashy recreation of the MTT Resort being the crown jewel of its residence. The robot was not popular with the humans by any means, but he still managed quite well. Alphys had even gone in a few months before to help him get electricity running in the resort.

The only reason those at Redemption weren't living there was because the Negotiations required them to be in much closer proximity to the city. Undyne had been called in as a police consultant, Alphys, Asgore and Toriel as the main Negotiators, and Frisk as ambassador. And, at Frisk's insistence, the humans had allowed Sans and Papyrus to join them, despite them having no connections to the meetings and conferences whatsoever. Frisk had wanted them close. All those most dear to her lived at Redemption, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

"I like the Outer Borders," a small voice interrupted.

The monsters all turned their heads to face the hall, taking in the small, pajama-wrapped figure of Frisk. She looked tired, and her eyes still held that fever-induced haze, but she seemed perfectly lucid.

Toriel, however, wasn't pleased. She rose from the couch, causing the springs to re-inflate the dent she had made in it by her weight. Sans suddenly found himself no longer as deeply imbedded in the cushions as he had been, to his disappointment.

"Frisk, my child! You should be in bed and fast asleep," she chided.

The human girl shuffled her feet, looking guilty. "I-I know. I just wanted to say something to Sans." That put the small skeleton right back in the center of things. Man, was this going to become a habit?

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"I think you should go with Undyne's idea."

"Oh?"

Frisk nodded. "You really do need a rest. And we all know that if...if we aren't there to make sure you rest, you won't." Her eyes held a pleading glimmer. "We just want you to be better." And there she went, bursting into tears. It probably had more to do with being sick and emotional than anything else, but that didn't really matter. All that mattered to Sans at that moment was that their Frisk, their dear, sweet, determined Frisk, was crying her little eyes out in their living room. And he couldn't take it.

"Aw, kid..." He wiggled his way off the couch and stood on the floor, opening his arms wide as Frisk looked up from her tear-soaked hands. "C'mere. Ya know you wanna," he teased gently.

Frisk didn't need a second bidding. A blink and she was racing into his arms, almost knocking him clear off his feet, burying her face in his chest and squeezing her arms around him gently. After a moment of catching his balance, Sans returned the favor. After several seconds of what Alphys would have called a healthy mix of 'fluff and angst', Sans opened his eyes and shifted his gaze over the fond gazes of his other friends and family, finally coming to rest on Toriel's from over Frisk's head.

"Alright," he said gently. "Maybe...Maybe a vacation is what we need."

Toriel looked relieved. In fact, they all did. A soothing calm seemed to fall over them all, healing the tension that had been plaguing them all. And from around his middle, Sans thought he felt Frisk hug him just a little bit tighter.


	14. With the First Step

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one's a bit short. ^^

They had never taken a car trip together.

And that was rather funny, since they had been on the Surface long enough to have had more than enough opportunities. Then again, with all the meetings and government negotiating, there really hadn't been time. And that was just at the beginning. Now, mostly, it was because none of them owned a car. Until now, the Ebott bus system had served them well enough, but there were no buses that shuttled between Ebott and the Outer Borders. Thankfully, a few quick arrangements by a few of Undyne's friends soon got them a rental large enough to carry six monsters and a human child.

Seating arrangement was a little difficult, with a lot of going back and forth on who should sit where. There was a lot to consider, taking into account things like size and who got more car-sick than others. Finally, after much debating and a few false starts they decided on Undyne and Alphys being in the far back of the not-so-mini van, where they could chat as much as they liked about anime without distracting the already excited Papyrus. As the only one among them with a valid license, he had been designated as the driver, with Asgore sitting in the passenger seat as navigator, his lap wallpapered with maps and directional-based notes that Alphys had printed off the internet.

That left the three quieter individuals, namely Sans, Toriel, and Frisk, to sit in the middle of the van. Toriel and Sans each took a seat near a window, with Frisk comfortably sandwiched between them. It was a comfortable arrangement, and one of which Toriel especially approved. It gave her a good vantage point from which she could keep an eye on both Sans and Frisk, give driving comments to Papyrus and Asgore, and, when needed, turn around and shush Undyne and Alphys to a more bearable volume whenever they got too wound up.

Toriel was rather surprised with the diligent carefulness with which Papyrus drove. He was very by the book, as Sans had always pointed out, and had truly memorized the driving manual backwards and forwards long before he had ever gone in for his test. He had passed it with flying colors, being perhaps one of the best testers the driving instructor had ever seen. Of course, after having sold his car in order to help pay for Redemption, he was now a little out of practice. That was why they had had him drive around an empty lot for a while the day before the trip had been planned. That had brought everything rushing back to the skeleton and booted out any doubts he, or anyone else, might have had.

The morning of their trip had been a flurry of activity, occupied with running around and packing what little they would be able to fit in the van's trunk. Pillows, some snacks, a few blankets, some puzzles for Papyrus and Frisk, a bottle or two of ketchup, bathing suits, various changes of clothes and pajamas, and two lawn chairs. It was a tight fit. Some of the items had to be taken out of the trunk altogether because they had piled up until Papyrus could no longer see out the back window. Since that was deemed too dangerous of a risk, and against the law as Papyrus pointed out, they distributed some of the less invasive objects throughout the car. Undyne complained briefly about the ketchup bottles that kept rolling around under her feet, but once she had pulled her legs up to sit cross-legged in her seat, they no longer bothered her.

As they set off, the gentle lines of Redemption fading behind them as they traveled down the long, dirt road to the highway, Sans felt a weight fall from him like a heavy burden. It shuddered out of him, as he gazed out the window of the van, the world passing in a blur. It was pleasant and mindless, and he just let his eyes wander over the rapidly changing scenery, before he closed them, allowing the feeling of peace to fill him, letting it take over and hold him like an embrace.

It had been two days since that nightly talk, when the decision to take a vacation had gone from idea to considered-plan to _definite-plan_. It had all happened so quickly, it had left him in somewhat of a daze. The minute Sans had given in, the others had leaped at the chance, wanting to help him, and Sans couldn't help the warm feeling of fondness wash through his soul. They were so set on doing their best for him, and he was both relieved and self-disgusted by it. Relieved because, even if he didn't think he did, he needed their help, and some deep sub-consciousness within him knew that. And self-disgusted because he felt he didn't deserve it. But they thought he did, and, in Sans' mind, they deserved it too, after all he had put them through the past few weeks. They needed this; wanted it. Undyne and Papyrus were so excited it was a wonder the house was still standing under their enthusiasm. Sans wouldn't do it for his sake. But he'd do it for theirs. And once he had decided on those principles, Sans found he was rather excited about going himself.

Though there had been one problem. One he had had to handle himself.

Hornbern.

The day Toriel and Asgore had decided they would all leave was the exact day that Sans was supposed to be going back to the Institute for another session with the professor. When Sans had realized his mistake, his soul had felt like it had stopped in his chest, an incredible wave of stress sweeping over him as he lay in bed that night. He had lain awake most of the night after that, trying to figure out some way or other that he could either get out of the trip, or get out of the 'appointment'.

He considered feigning illness, which wouldn't have been too far-fetched. But he had a feeling that, even if he had been at death's door he would still be going on this trip, under the belief that he was probably better off with his own kind when he was unwell. That would be Toriel's thinking. That would be _all_ their thinking. And there probably was something to that.

And then he had considered just skipping his meeting with Hornbern without a word. But quiet threats about the deal being broken stopped him from doing that.

Sans settled for leaving the man a long message explaining what had happened. He would have preferred to tell Hornbern in person, or live over the phone, but he was unable to reach him and the risk of being heard by the others was too great. So a message it was. He explained that he wasn't well, and that his family had noticed and had decided to do something about it. They were planning to be gone for four or five days, but Sans promised that he would turn up at the Institute the night they got back. Then he left his cell phone number, silently pleading that he had worked everything out so that the deal wouldn't be absolved.

"This isn't a breaking of the deal," he had insisted to the professor's answering machine, locked away in his room so no one would overhear his words. "This is just a delay that couldn't be helped. If I tried to get out of it, then they would know for sure something was up. We should be back Tuesday night. Yeah. Thanks."

And he had hung up.

It was all he had been able to do, and it was both a worry and a relief, and the two emotions warred it out within him. Finally he had reconciled his mixed feelings by convincing himself that it would be better to ask forgiveness than ask permission. Had he asked Hornbern, the man might have done something to stop him. This way, by the time Hornbern got his message, Sans would already be long gone. The man would have no choice but to wait. And Sans hoped by all the right in the world that that was going to be okay. But, despite that worry, he was just relieved to be going away for a while, no matter how short. Anywhere that didn't have a loud, commanding voice telling him to exhaust his magic until he was so close to passing out he thought he was going to die. Anywhere was better than that.

Sans shivered slightly, coming back to himself just in time to feel two, small arms wrap around him. Opening his eyes, he looked to his right, where Frisk was firmly hugging him, her eyes staring into his with love and a hint of concern. He smiled, reassuring her, and that seemed to do the trick. Frisk settled in that way, resting up against him. It wasn't long before the kid was asleep, breathing deeply with her hands fisted gently in the fabric of his jacket. Between the warmth, and the gentle rocking and humming of the vehicle, Sans soon followed, drifting into a calmer, more satisfying slumber than he had had in a while.

Toriel smiled, watching as all the tension bled from Sans as the skeleton gave in to Frisk's determined cuddling. Turning backwards slightly, the boss monster asked Undyne to pass up one of the blankets from the trunk. Undyne did so, giving the sleeping duo a glance herself as the handed the object over to goat monster.

"Huh. He's kinda cute when he isn't cracking off those stupid puns," she commented, voice low and amused.

Toriel chuckled in agreement, taking the blanket and lovingly draping it over her daughter and friend. "Do not let him hear you say so. I doubt very much that he would appreciate such a description."

Undyne gave a sharp-toothed grin. "Artillery for when he's being a jerk," she smirked.

The other laughed, shaking her head. But then Toriel's smile dimmed a bit. "I really hope this trip helps him. He is taking what happened at the Negotiation far too harshly. It all worked out in the end, but I fear that while we have forgiven him, he has not forgiven himself."

Alphys scooched closer, also getting a look at their sleeping friend from over the back of the middle seat. She smiled fondly. Man, when Sans was out he was out. Most people would have been awakened by their hushed voices, or felt some sort of feeling wash over then to tell them they were under the attention of others, like when you get the feeling you're being watched. Not so with Sans. His eyes closed and wide smile relaxed into slightly smaller oval, his soft, gentle breathing spoke of complete unconsciousness. The kind he needed so badly.

"Sans has always been very hard on himself," Alphys agreed, before she wondered how in the world she knew that. Sans had...been an acquaintance, before, in the Underground. Of course, just about everybody knew everybody back then. How could they not? It was one of the results of living trapped together in a place that only really stretched a few miles. But it wasn't like she had been a good friend of the skeleton...that she could recall. At least not on her part. Sans knew everything there was to know about everyone, and that was only natural when he had lived countless resets to gain such an understanding. He even knew about the stuff she was ashamed of, and that no one else knew about.

He knew her better than she knew herself.

And yet, there were times when she felt she should know more about him. Not 'should' like it was something she was supposed to have already done, but 'should' as in it was something she once had and no longer did. There were days thoughts would come to her, little tidbits of information, like the fact that Sans was good with numbers and equations, long before the skeleton had made it known to the others, and it drove her crazy because she couldn't for the life of her remember how she had known. She shrugged it all off, attributing it to the resets. Maybe some alternate timeline knowledge had crossed over somehow. Maybe she really didn't know any of these things about him, but some other version of her somewhere did. It hurt her head just thinking about it. Timeline science was really more up Sans' alley.

Thankfully, neither Undyne nor Toriel seemed to notice her slip up, because they all knew Sans was, indeed, far too hard on himself.

"Maybe this trip will help that," Toriel whispered gently, tucking the blanket closer over Frisk's shoulder. "Frisk has been very tense these past few weeks as well." She gently ran her large fingers through the child's light brown hair, mindful to make sure her claws didn't scratch her. She smiled fondly. "She is very fond of Sans."

Undyne gave a light huff, once again looking down at the two sleeping friends. "Looks like the feeling is mutual. I've known Sans ever since I met Papyrus, just after I became captain of the Royal Guard. I've never seen anyone get this close to him. Outside of Papyrus."

Asgore, hearing their conversation, twisted slightly in his seat in the front to look back, his eyes softening at the sight. "It is really quite remarkable. After all they have..." He frowned. "All they have been through."

There was no need to explain that statement. Frisk and Sans had both given their accounts of the resets, and if there was one thing that was harder to imagine than time skipping backwards over and over, people dying and then being alive again without ever remembering it, or Chara taking control of Frisk, it was that Sans and Frisk had been enemies. That they had killed each other, repeatedly. In horrible ways. There were days when Sans was particularly distressed that he would grip at the fabric of his jacket, pushing his fingers against his chest as though some hidden wound still pained him. And there were days that Frisk, in Sans' presence, would flinch if the skeleton moved too quickly, which, thankfully, was rare. It made the others' souls twist in sympathy. They wanted so hard to understand, but no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't. Not really.

The thoughts Asgore's words rang through them wiped the smiles from their faces. The reality of the resets painted this innocent scene into something much deeper; into something much darker and more heart-rending. Toriel's hand stilled, pulling back slightly to hover uncertainly over Frisk's head. Alphys closed her eyes before opening them again, focusing them on anything but her friends. Undyne, the very embodiment of Alphys opposite, stared hard at Frisk and Sans' lax forms, all of the smirk and amusement gone from her face. Asgore's eyes rose slowly to meet Toriel's emotionally pained gaze, and in the driver's seat, unnoticed by the others, Papyrus' fingers gripped harder at the steering wheel.

Undyne finally broke the tension with a sigh, flopping back into her seat in the back. "That's why we're going on a vacation, right?" she supplied, almost softly, for her. "There's apparently a lot of hurt still in need of some healing."

The others all nodded in agreement.

* * *

Sans woke up to someone gently shaking his shoulder. He cracked his eyes open, before blinking against the bright sunlight streaming in through the car window. It hit him with an instant headache he was not expecting.

"Aw, geez..."

He started to sit up, discovering that sometimes during his slumber he had sunk to the side of the seat, his skull slipping down between the window and the seat belt. It might have been comfortable when he had first drifted off, but after probably more than an hour of riding like that, his neck had gotten terribly stiff. The skeleton winced, extricating his head from the car restraint, before finally turning to whoever had woken him.

Turned out it was Papyrus, the tall skeleton having to duck and lean in, almost lying across the middle seat of the van just so he could reach Sans, who was stuffed into the corner like a bundle of blue fabric and bones. Papyrus smiled as Sans' eyelights focused, removing his hand from his brother's shoulder.

"HELLO, SANS," he spoke up gently, or as gently as he could for all of his boisterous personality.

Sans smiled back, his gave a grin still reflecting his drowsiness. "Hey, Pap." He paused, taking in the fact that the car was no longer moving and that it was completely void of any occupants other than he and his brother. "Uh...Where is everyone?"

"WE ARRIVED HERE, THE OUTER BORDERS, A LITTLE WHILE AGO," Papyrus supplied. "AND...WELL, YOU WERE SLEEPING SO SOUNDLY, WE DECIDED TO LET YOU SLEEP FOR A LITTLE WHILE."

The smaller skeleton pulled himself up so he was sitting up a little straighter. "We're at the Outer Borders?"

Papyrus nodded, and Sans quickly reached for the buckle of his seat belt. He was glad they had let him get a little rest. In all honesty, it was probably the best sleep he had had for the last few weeks. But if they were back with the their own people he wanted to enjoy it as much as he could, without it all going by in a flash because he had been asleep. As Pap scooched back out of the van Sans followed, collecting his sneakers that must have slipped off his feet during the trip.

The minute he stepped outside into the sunlight Sans felt warmth flood all over him. It was a beautiful day. Like one of the ones in the picture books he used to read to Papyrus...Still read to Papyrus. If Redemption was in the countryside, the Outer Borders were even more so. The air smelled of dew-covered grass, warm dirt, and fresh leaves. Far from Mount Ebott's towering shadow, there was an unobscured view of the sky, and it stretched on and on endlessly in every direction.

Sans blinked up at it, his headache thankfully dissipating with every breath of clean air he took. He felt a gentle weight on his shoulder once again, looking up to his brother as Papyrus began to lead him.

"COME ALONG, BROTHER! THE OTHERS WILL BE HAPPY TO SEE YOU!"

And by 'others' Sans knew he meant more than just their little gang from Redemption. He'd get to see a lot of old friends today, and he was quite honestly excited.

Papyrus must have parked the van a short distance from the monster settlement, seeing as, when Sans looked back, it was parked under the shade of a maple tree, and there wasn't a monster building in sight. Sans gave his brother a questioning look, which Papyrus caught.

"WE THOUGHT IT BEST TO PARK THE VEHICLE OUT A WAYS," he said in explanation. "ASGORE WAS CONCERNED THAT SOME OF THE MORE CURIOUS MONSTERS MIGHT GET A LITTLE TOO...UM, CURIOUS."

That made perfect sense. There were still a good handful of their people who had not even caught a glimpse of Ebott City yet. They would be almost desperate to gather any information that they could, taking the car apart piece by piece if necessary. Which, in all honesty, might have been fine if they knew what they were doing and knew how to put it all back together again. Which they didn't. Sans had made that mistake with the scooter he had bought a short time after they had arrived on the Surface. It had been a clunky old thing, barely worth the few bucks he had paid for it, but it had worked and gotten him from place to place that first week or so. But then he had brought it to show Grillby, and a few monsters had got at it when his back was turned. He had shrugged it off, not really caring either way. Though he had been rather surprised at just how many pieces the thing had been made up of, and left in.

Sans nodded. "Gotcha."

The forest was so pretty here. Flowers waved in the slight breeze, coming in so many different colors it still sometimes managed to make Sans dizzy with the beauty of it. The sun filtered through the vibrant green leaves here, casting shifting patterns of shadow and light on the worn, dirt path they were treading. It was calming, and quiet, other than the birds singing in the boughs above. It felt great. And Sans started to find himself already beginning to unwind from the last few weeks. Hornbern was just a wisp of a problem in the back of his mind, and Sans was more than fine wit that.

Papyrus watched his brother; he took in the calm, relaxed expression that slowly crept into his features, feeling a sense of gratitude shift into his own emotions. As naive as he could be, Papyrus had grown to be very perceptive, especially of Sans. When they had come topsoil, and the whole thing with the resets had been explained to him, Papyrus had felt horribly guilty. Guilty that he hadn't read Sans better, and figured out that he was in trouble. That he was suffering and hurting. Sans had told him more than once that it wasn't his fault, but Papyrus had a different opinion.

To him, Sans had just suddenly woken up one day and been, what he know understood to be, depressed. For him, it had been a strange fluke that just all at once came into being. But for Sans, it had been gradual. Reset after reset had slowly worn away his hope, until so little of it remained Papyrus was sure the only thing keeping Sans from falling had been the short term of each reset. Chara never gave him time to fall, if what Sans had told him was correct. To Sans, it had been an ongoing theme in his life, and the descent into that pit of despair had been slow and painful.

And he, Papyrus, the supposed 'Great', had missed it.

After that, Papyrus had taken it upon himself to keep the closest eye on Sans that he could without giving himself away. He began to study the ways that Sans expressed himself. The subtle way he tended to sink into the safety of his coat when he felt uncertain or nervous. The way he buried his hands deeper in his pockets when he didn't want anyone to notice how badly they were shaking. The way he craned his neck when he was curious, or when his attention snapped to something, making his eyelights constrict slightly if it was something that worried him. All these things Papyrus had always known to some degree, but he had never put that knowledge to use. Now, he did so every chance he got.

And at the moment, Sans' posture and stance as they walked lazily toward the monster settlement was lax. His hands were in his pockets, but were resting there only lightly. His steps weren't hurried, and his eyes were closed slightly, completely at ease. It was the most relaxed Papyrus had seen him in a while. But there was still something off that the tall skeleton couldn't quite place. He looked a little harder, trying to make sure his brother didn't notice his scrutinizing.

Sans looked perfectly normal. He was a little thinner than he had been in the Underground, at least, he looked like it. Skeletons couldn't technically gain or lose weight, but their overall composition size could change slightly. Sans' bones were a little leaner, healthier than they had been. Not that Papyrus could see much of them, other than his legs, skull, and a bit of the side of his neck. Despite the warm day, Sans was still wrapped up in his...

Wait a moment.

Papyrus cocked his head to the side, realizing that Sans wasn't wearing his usual coat. It was blue, yes, and very similar in design to his other one, but it was significantly less puffy. Papyrus recalled that Toriel had bought it, but that Sans, despite appreciating the gesture, favored his old coat more often than not. It wasn't that big a deal that Sans was wearing it now...other than the nagging in the back of Papyrus' mind that told the skeleton something wasn't quite right. It was a faint feeling, but one that he didn't want to ignore.

"WHERE IS YOUR COAT, BROTHER?" He watched as Sans tensed, alarms going off in his skull as Sans' hands dug deeper into the pockets. "DID YOU LOSE IT?" Unlikely, but he wanted to press his question a little more. Otherwise Sans might manage to dodge around it. He was so very good at that, unfortunately.

Sans gave a shrug, but it wasn't nearly the same as the relaxed posture of before. "Nah. Just felt like wearing something different," he answered.

Papyrus frowned. "SANS, YOU HATE THINGS THAT ARE DIFFERENT. THAT IS WHY IT TOOK ALMOST GETTING HIT BY A CAR TO CONVINCE YOU NOT TO WEAR SLIPPERS OUT AND ABOUT THE CITY ANYMORE." His expression softened. "SANS, IS SOMETHING BOTHERING YOU?"

Sans mentally cringed, somehow managing not to let it show in his face. He smiled up at his brother, trying to come across as casual, but confused. "No? Pap, it's just a coat. It's not like I was showing up in a tutu or something." Now there was a funny thought.

But Papyrus persisted. "IT IS JUST THAT, EVEN AFTER ALL THIS TIME, YOU HARDLY EVER TAKE THAT RATTY, OLD JACKET OFF."

"It was dirty."

"I WASHED IT A FEW DAYS AGO."

"Huh? When?"

"WHEN YOU TOOK A NAP."

Sans tried not to chuckle at the thought of his brother stripping him of his coat, washing it, drying it, and getting it back on him without waking him even the slightest. Though, the more Sans thought about it, it really wasn't that funny. It attested to just how much Papyrus understood about him now. Pap knew he loved that coat, and that it made him feel safe and whole. Papyrus understood. So much so, that he was willing to go the extra mile and wait for him to fall asleep to wash it.

Sans swallowed a mixed emotion of love and pained gratitude, thankfully keeping his voice steady. "Huh. Thanks, bro."

"YOU ARE WELCOME."

They both lapsed into silence, in which Sans knew his brother was waiting. He was waiting for him to take the first step, and Sans wanted to. He wanted to more badly than he had first realized. But he couldn't let go. He couldn't tell Papyrus about Hornbern; not now. Preferably not ever. It was a hard spot he had gotten himself into, and he had done that before. He always got out of them just fine on his own. He didn't want Papyrus to worry.

Sans gave a sigh. "Listen, Pap, I'm fine. I...seem to have lost it somewhere. I took it off last night, and now I'm not sure where it is." Only a half lie. He did know where it was, but he had left it there by mistake. "I wanted to have something covering me up because...well, you know. And this was what I had." He smiled again, playing his roll to the hilt. "See? Simple."

Papyrus' expression softened, and Sans felt like a jerk for breaking the trust he saw there. "AH, I UNDERSTAND, BROTHER. WE WILL SEARCH FOR IT WHEN WE GET BACK HOME, ALRIGHT? I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL FIND IT! NYEH!" With that, the tall skeleton scooped him up and shifted Sans up over his head and unto his shoulders. Sans was more than a little startled, before relaxing, taking in the ride. The relaxed calmness washed back over him again.

As long as he focused on what was around him, the troubles that plagued him stayed at bay.


	15. Falter

Sans quietly chuckled to himself, staring down from the balcony-like porch of the new monster resort, arms folded over the sturdy pine railing as he watched Frisk playing below him. Despite having just got over a pretty bad cold, the kid was doing fine, playing tag with a few of her old friends from the Underground. Monster Kid, tripping every so often and having no idea how to play the game without arms, raced around calling out in indignation every time he missed, the sound mixing with Frisk's giggles. A few others had joined in, mostly a few little ones from Snowdin and Waterfall. It was good to see them playing. It made peace seem closer than it had back within the city's limits and Redemption.  
  
Tag was a human game. Not that the monsters hadn’t had something similar. There was very little difference between the two, mostly just in name. Humans called it 'tag' and monsters called it 'getchum'. Sans couldn't remember ever playing it himself, but Papyrus had loved it as a babybones. Either way the game required a lot of running, laughing, squealing, and catching, none of which was really Sans' thing. But he did enjoy watching, smiling as the children giggled and raced around on the vibrant lawn below.  
  
With her legs getting longer with her age, Frisk was getting quite good at it. Of course, he had also taught her a few things about dodging. She had mastered it like a pro.  
  
It was the second day, Sunday, of their time in the Outer Borders, and it was turning out to be quite a pleasant experience. The weather had stayed warm and dry, with a gentle breeze that kept it from getting too hot. They had all occupied their time resting and meeting up with old friends. Sans had even gone in search of Grillby, surprised, but pleased, to find that the fire elemental had opened up a makeshift bar on the far side of the settlement. Sans had spent a few hours there, talking and enjoying a bottle of ketchup before Papyrus had shown up and dragged him away, telling him he'd had enough ketchup and could always have it at home instead of wasting his vacation stuffed on the 'disgusting' condiment. Sans had relented, though he planned to sneak away at least one more time before they left on Tuesday morning.  
  
Frisk gave a final, breathless laugh, pushing Monster Kid away gently when he didn't get the hint that she was done playing. The children all flopped down on their backs in the grass, staring up and pointing at various clouds. It was a pastime the monsters had never been able to enjoy below ground, and the floating fluffs fascinated them. Now that was an activity Sans would be fine with joining in. It was better than standing alone in his designated room. But he didn't want to bother the kids.  
  
Frisk needed time to act her age. The kid was an ambassador, true, but she was still a child. Children deserved to be young. Sans had never really had that himself, that carefree, joyous existence that represented childhood. Watching after Papyrus had been his responsibility for...almost as long as he could remember really. Not that he regretted one second of it, but it left a dull ache in his soul sometimes when he realized he had a big, gaping hole where his childhood should have been. Though, truthfully, a lot of his life before the resets had been lost to his memory long before now. Most of his pre-Snowdin days he only knew of from what Papyrus had told him. Papyrus had said he was sick in those days. Weak, far beyond even his now one HP state. And though Papyrus never said so, Sans got the impression that he might have been dying. Sans didn't like to dwell on it, and neither did Papyrus. They preferred to remember their days together in Snowdin, filled with terrible puns, hotdog stands, and dreams of the Royal Guard. Papyrus, at least, had had a fairly normal and happy childhood. As should be the case of all children, in Sans' opinion. Which was why he was glad Frisk was enjoying herself. She of all people deserved a break.  
  
The other members of their makeshift family were playing as well, in their own ways.  
  
Papyrus had decided that the monster settlement was dreadfully devoid of puzzles, for fun as well as for safety. He had therefore taken it upon himself to make as many as he possibly could with the allotted time he had, with several of the younger monsters volunteering to help. It meant a lot to Papyrus, Sans could tell, and so he hadn't felt the least bit left out when his brother headed off to put his plan into action. He was just relieved Papyrus was having a good time.  
  
Toriel and Asgore were...somewhere. Sans really hadn't seen much of them since they had arrived, other than at meal times. He knew they were taking the opportunity to spend some alone time together, and they more than deserved it. The Negotiations had aged them a bit, all the stress and responsibility adding dark shadows beneath their eyes almost as prominent as Sans' own. But, with only one day of rest, they already looked much better. Sans couldn't say the same for himself, but he was glad the vacation was turning out therapeutic for someone at least.  
  
Undyne had gotten together with the members of the disbanded Royal Guard, and, from what Sans had heard, partied it up at a level that even Drunk Bunny couldn't have matched. She had come back late, hair all frizzed, and eye-patch askew, but grinning from fin to fin. It had taken Toriel gently, but firmly, leading her off to bed to finally calm her down, and even then it was a while before she actually finished shouting old military jargon and fell asleep. So, she was having a good time, without a doubt.  
  
Alphys had been in contact with some of her old colleagues from the lab, spending time chatting about various theories that were on the back burner for now, until the Negotiations weren't a priority anymore. Some of those, Sans suspected, included an in-depth study of the resets themselves, though Alphys tended to only mention it to Sans in passing, as though testing how he would react to them being mentioned before she broke the news to him that she wanted to pick his metaphorical brains for every fact and memory he had on them. She certainly wasn't very subtle in her enthusiasm. Ever since he had first told her about the resets, her eyes widening and gears turning in her head, Sans had known an investigation would take place eventually. He had her fooled to a degree. He already knew her intentions, and, frankly, he didn't mind. Too much, anyway. In her spare time, Alphys had apparently given Mettaton a full technical checkup, much to the robot's appreciation. As his creator, Alphys was really the only person Mettaton trusted with his many complicated circuits and programming.  
  
It was Mettaton's new resort that they were staying in, actually. Since they had moved out to Redemption long before most of the monster settlement had been properly built, there hadn't been any place for them to stay. Guest houses weren't a thing they had the resources for after all, and most only had enough room for themselves or their families. But Mettaton, with all the flare and energy he usually showed, had offered them a few rooms, which they had accepted gratefully. At least, on most of their parts. Sans wasn't too thrilled, but it was better than sleeping outside on wet grass at night. Though falling asleep to the sight of stars twinkling above wasn't such a bad idea. He and Papyrus had been given a room to share, and, despite the beds being a little lumpy, it was actually not all that bad. Not that it really helped. Sans had managed to make it through the night with only one nightmare, and even for that he had succeeded in not screaming the entire resort awake. But it had, as usual, made him very tired. The others, due to recent events, had granted him a morning to sleep in. Even Papyrus had been fine with it.  
  
And so, here he was bleary eyes and still a little groggy from sleep but as content as he had been in a long time. He wasn't sure exactly what time it was, but judging by the sun, which was already far above the mountain's imposing outline, it was probably sometime after eleven. Maybe eleven-thirty. Still only dressed in his typical white t-shirt and a pair of old, worn shorts, he looked the very image of the lazybone skeleton he had always been. It felt familiar and pleasant. Reassuring. He was enjoying the quiet and calm that had settled over him since their arrival. Though the growing hunger for a meal was going to force him to go out of the room and find something to eat soon, he was sure.  
  
The almost palace-like building was sure to have a kitchen somewhere. The Resort resembled the original one underground to a very great extent, right down to the colors and decorative furnishings. It was a bit of an eye-sore, at least to someone who better appreciated the simple charms of nature rather than the wonders of architecture, but Sans wasn't going to cause a stir. It was fine. Pleasant.  
  
He was just considering taking a stroll downstairs when a slight vibration in his pocket startled him. Dragging his gaze from Frisk and her friends, he frowned and dug down into his clothes to fetch his cell phone. It was a Surface one, a touch-screen one that Alphys had bought him a few months ago. She had said something about having modified it to a 'skeleton's touch'. Which made sense, since bone against screen didn't tend to work too well. Something about not having warm flesh freaked the devices out. It either didn't register them at all, or it picked up on magic residue and didn't know what to do with it. Alphys, in all her technical genius, had found a way to solve both problems. She had gotten excited about adding more 'modifications' later, but she hadn't had the time yet. And, in all honesty, Sans didn't mind. As long as he could call out and receive calls he was fine with it. All other 'modifications' were extra stuff he probably would be too lazy to fool around with anyway.  
  
Sans glanced down at the number that sat bold-faced on his screen, feeling his soul skip a pulse when his mind slowly registered who it was who was calling. He hesitated, wondering whether or not he should answer. He could always feign innocence later; say he hadn't heard it, or that he had left his phone in his room. Or dropped it. It would be easy enough to smash it if he dropped it on the hard, tiled floor, then at least he'd have physical proof of the 'accident'. But then...he found himself disturbingly worried what the consequences might be if he didn't answer. It sent an odd shiver up his spine, and with that thought, he flicked his thumb over the face of the phone, answering the call and holding the device up to his skull.  
  
"Hey."  
  
The voice that spoke only made him feel more uneasy.  _"Sans?"_  
  
The skeleton closed his eyes, trying to ignore the feelings of dread that were stirring within him. Without realizing it, he had greatly tightened his grip on his phone, to the point where the casing creaked. By some miracle he managed to keep his voice steady, pulling off a tone that was almost cheerful.  
  
"Yep. Heya, Professor."  
  
Hornbern's tone was low and soft, like he was trying not to be too loud. Sans had to strain his hearing a little to understand him, guessing from the background noises that the man must be in a room full of people. Probably a meeting or something, though that prospect somehow made the call even more disturbing, that the man would be so concerned with Sans' whereabouts that he would put him as a higher priority than a meeting. Again Sans felt a shiver try to crawl up his back, but he suppressed it.  
  
Hornbern didn't sound angry, exactly, but he did sound...disappointed? More like  _disapproving_. Sans wasn't quite sure which was worse.  _"I got your message last night. Called, but you didn't answer."_  
  
Heh. Imagine that. This time he wasn't lying as he answered. "Guess I left it in my room when I went down for dinner. Sorry I missed ya." Not sorry in the least.  
  
_"I wish that you had informed me of your departure sooner."_  Okay, now that sounded just a little bit angry. The tone pinched at something in Sans' emotions, and the skeleton all at once found his own, slow, soft temper forming into a low grumble.  
  
"You don't run my life, bud." He regretted it the minute silence met his words over the connection. Not willing to take it back -he meant every syllable of it- but more than just a little worried over how his words would be received, he added, "And I didn't really have much of a choice. My friends could see I wasn't feeling so good, Professor. It was their idea to run off for a while. If I had refused, they would ha-"  
  
_"Have known something was up,"_  Hornbern interrupted.  _"Yes. You already explained that. And I agree, it couldn't be helped."_  His tone changed, and Sans felt slightly sick, recognizing it as that horrid, manipulating voice the man tended to take on when he wanted something.  _"But you must understand what this means, Sans. We're going to be behind schedule almost four whole days. We're trying to fix you before you go off again, and that could be at any time."_  
  
Sans frowned and tensed, especially at the almost flippant way Hornbern said the word 'fix'. As though he were little more than some defective toaster. "First of all, I didn't know we were on any kind of a schedule...and second, what makes you think I could 'go off' again so soon? I'm literally over a hundred years old in human years, and this has only ever happened once. Two times in the same month? Heck, even the same decade is really unlikely, isn't it?"  
  
He could almost imagine Hornbern shaking his head, slow and deliberate as his words manipulated further.  _"Not in the least. According to last sessions' test, your magic is currently very strong, but also very unstable. You were able to reach a level unlike anything I have ever seen, and yet once that height was reached your stats fluctuated dangerously."_  
  
"Yeah, well, that's kinda what happens when you push a monster to their limits. It'd be the same with anyone."  
  
_"Yes, yes,"_  Hornbern retorted a little impatiently.  _"But the question is why? Think of your magic as a chain, with many links. It is meant to be held together, firm and resistant to outside sources. But pressure from the inside seems to have a different effect, such as stress or extensive use of magic. With other monsters it is as though the chain of their magic is flexible, allowing it to stretch and mold with the pressure until the pressure is relieved without them losing control."_  
  
Sans didn't like where this was going, but his own curiosity was getting the better of him. He sighed. "Let me guess...Mine didn't do that."  
  
_"Precisely. Your magic acts more like a...rubber band. When it was put under stress and pressure, it stretched out thinner and thinner. Naturally, we stopped before the inevitable could happen, but my theory is that if it continued to stretch, whether from stress or something else, it would snap. The resulting backlash would be immense, and most certainly out of your ability to contain. And I can only assume that is what happened to you at the Negotiations."_  Hornbern paused.  _"Whatever is causing this is very real, my friend. Very real and very dangerous. I worry for your safety and the safety of your family."_  
  
"Yeah," Sans sighed. I bet you do. "So, what's the plan then?" he asked, suddenly feeling very tired. "I can't just leave. Can't drive, for one thing, and the other's would be suspicious if I just up and wanted to go home for another."  
  
_"You said you would be back by Tuesday?"_  
  
Sans nodded, then remembered the professor wouldn't be able to see and answered vocally. "Tuesday. Yes. Probably get home sometime in the afternoon." He heard Hornbern sigh in barely contained impatience, like a man who has tried to have an intelligent conversation with a three year old child.  
  
_"Fine. Come to the Institute the night you return from your trip. Midnight. Sharp."_  
  
Sans flinched. "I'm not doing  _that_  experiment again, Professor." Not again. Once had been more than enough.  
  
A pause.  _"Of course not. I was unaware of just how thin a line exists for us to tread. I will be more careful."_  
  
The skeleton mentally sighed. "Okay. That's...fine, I guess. See you then, Professor." Sans began to pull the phone away from his skull to end the call, but Hornbern stopped him with a quick demand.  
  
_"And Sans?"_  
  
"...Yes?"  
  
_"Do not do this again."_  
  
Sans shivered, closing his eyes slightly in a barely conscious wince. That had sounded like a threat. A warning. "Got it."  
  
But Hornbern had already hung up.  
  
Slowly lowering the phone, he ended the call before leaning against the wall with a shuddering breath. He could still hear Frisk and her friends chattering outside his window. He could feel the breeze coming through, cooling the room and blowing at the lace curtains. Birds were singing. The sun was shining.  
  
But, suddenly, it wasn't all as beautiful as it had seemed before.  


* * *

  
  
Mettaton had been planning it since they had first said they were coming to the Outer Borders to visit. Sans should have been more prepared, parties, after all, were the robot's thing. He, personally, hadn't learned about it until the afternoon of the day before they were planning to go back home. Papyrus had somehow caught wind of it, and then after that the gossip was fair game. Everyone who was anybody, quite literally, had been invited. Even Jerry, out of some unspoken host-related law. Either that or he had invited himself, which wasn't too far-fetched.  
  
The others had been thrilled, Frisk and Papyrus acting like living whirlwinds of energy all day long, racing about and helping whenever and wherever they could. Toriel had volunteered her skills for catering, while Asgore opted to help rearrange the furniture in the Resort's lobby. Undyne and Alphys had helped out with decoration, while Mettation raced about like a pink blur, directing, nagging, and making a general nuisance of himself, though Sans seemed to be the only one to think so. The short skeleton himself had puttered around, eventually being banned from helping simply because he wasn't being much help. He ended up leaning against the door frame of the opening that led into the lobby, plucking absently at the leaves of a potted plant while he watched the goings on. Since the call from Hornbern, enjoying himself had become far harder than it should have been. It was like all the pleasure had been siphoned out of the trip, leaving him feeling hollow and weak-kneed. But, just as he had for so very long, he managed to hide it beneath a lazy grin and half-hooded eye sockets.  
  
He really shouldn't care. He shouldn't. Hornbern might be an important scientist, but he wasn't that big of a deal. Sans might have felt comfortable shrugging the guy off and never looking back, if not for the man's one major point. Sans knew a few things about magic and souls and HP. He had to, seeing as his own health was so low. It wasn't all unlike the way he had found some humans learned and kept track of their blood pressure. What Hornbern had said actually made a frighteningly large amount of sense. Most monsters could handle a great deal of stress on their magic, and Sans had always suspected that his would be considerably less able in the area. But nothing like Hornbern was describing. But could he really afford not to look into it? For his sake?  
  
For his friends and family's sake?  
  
Sans' grin fell just a little. No. No, he couldn't put the others at risk just because he was being stubborn. Not that he agreed with Hornbern's methods. But the man hadn't hurt him, he had just made him extremely weak and sick, and it wasn't like the man was doing it on purpose. It was nothing Sans couldn't bounce back from. Humans went under all manner of treatments with side effects like that, ones that made them seem even sicker than they had been before. But, in the end, if the treatments were successful, the price had been worth it. Sans supposed he could endure more, if the outcome meant he and his family could live without fear of him going berserk and incinerating people.  
  
Sans winced.  
  
Anything would be better than that.  
  
So, in the meantime, he'd do his best to pretend his problems outside of the monster settlement didn't exist. That was easier said than done, seeing as he had a very one track mind. Always had, probably always would. He tended to get stuck on things, even when he didn't want to, thinking about them over and over again until it was almost like his own little private world of resets in his skull. He hated it. But he could fake being okay. He had done it for as long as he could remember.  
  
"Hey, nerd!"  
  
Sans looked up, eye lights fading back into existence, not having even realized they had dimmed at all. Undyne was standing on a particularly tall ladder, a nervous Alphys holding onto the sides of it as though afraid it would tip at any moment. Which wasn't unlikely with the way Undyne was standing on the very top step, balanced and yet overly confident in the ladder's ability to take her quick, enthusiastic movements. Sticking his hands into his pockets, Sans stepped out from the sidelines, a lazy grin on his face.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
The ladder bucked dangerously as the fish-like monster twisted around to point at a nearby table. "Pass me the streamers." Not a question, not a plea, or even a kindly implore; it was a command. But, of course, what more would anyone expect of Undyne the Undying?  
  
Sans glanced at the table, walking over and taking hold of the pink streamer roll before tossing it up to Undyne. She caught it neatly in the palm of her hand, then gave a nod of thanks before going back to work, slathering the walls of the resort with far more decoration than it actually needed. It looked like somebody's craft box had exploded. Instead of going back to his place over by the potted plant, Sans settled in to stand at Alphys side, joining the other short monster in looking up and watch Undyne work. Alphys gave him a shy smile, before nervously adjusting her hands on the ladder.  
  
"H-How did you sleep last night, Sans?"  
  
The skeleton shrugged, lnowing what she was fishing for. "Fine. Only one nightmare. And it wasn't too bad." It had taken him a lot of coaxing to get to the point where he would admit that freely. He moved his eyelights back up when he heard Undyne chuckle.  
  
"Only one, huh?" she grinned, though there was an underlying sense of frustration.  
  
Yes, it had become a sort of joke that Sans, the skeleton who was known for sleeping more hours out of a day than was probably healthy, couldn't go a single night without waking up in a panic. But it was also a really sad joke. They all handled it differently. Sans handled it like he always had, simply breathing through the panic and then moving on like it had never happened. Papyrus handled it with all the gentleness he could muster, as did Toriel. Asgore never seemed quite sure how to approach the issue, but was always offering to do anything he could to help. Alphys had tried various things to help him, research on trauma and whatnot. Nothing had worked yet, so there really wasn't much hope there, but it was the thought that counted. Frisk patted or cuddled, understanding and guilt always in her expression as she did her best to comfort. And Undyne tended to pretend it didn't bother her at all. She teased him about it, ribbed him, but under all of that there was this feeling of failure and hopelessness. Like she wanted to help him, make the nightmares go away, but didn't know how. Maybe that was why she acted like it was funny, because things seem all the more harmless when you can laugh at them. Sans wished he could laugh. A real laugh.  
  
He gave Undyne a lopsided grin. "Yeah. Just one."  
  
Undyne instantly changed the subject. "You coming to the party tonight?" There was a hidden threat in that invitation. A 'you better not be planning to lock yourself up in your bedroom, you bonehead' kind of implication. She paused, streamer in hand, to give him a one-eyed glare from above him.  
  
"Yeah. For a little while, anyway. Kinda tired."  
  
"You're always tired," she huffed back, continuing with her work. "But you better spend a little time down here at least, Papyrus has been so excited. He's going to want you to be there."  
  
Sans gave another shrug. "Probably."  
  
Alphys gave him a slightly sadder look, taking a brave move in letting go of the ladder with one hand to gently lay it on his shoulder. It was so unexpected, that he startled a little at the contact. "We'd all like t-to see you there, y-you know?" she said kindly, her small eyes searching his face behind thick-rimmed glasses. It was almost worse than Papyrus' puppy-dog eyes. Almost.  
  
"I...I'll be there," he caved, giving her a rare shy smile of his own. Before he added a quipped, "But only if Grillby brings some ketchup."  
  
The small, yellow monster giggled, removing her hand from his shoulder. "I'll t-tell him."  
  
After that, Sans decided to stick with the two girls, helping only when they asked, but enjoying their company. As long as he didn't get in the way, they seemed fine with it, and it helped to pass the time. Even though Undyne swore that if he told one more party joke she was going to hang him up on the chandelier and leave him there.

 

* * *

  
The party was probably the biggest event the monsters had held since coming to the Surface. They had gone all out. Fish from the nearby streams had been caught and steamed, though Undyne and some of the other fish-like creatures refused to eat those. Vegetables and fruits had been gleaned from the forest, and Toriel had brought a few special items from the city. Things that the monsters couldn't have gathered from the world around them. But this was enough to make a wide range of dishes. There were parfaits, cakes, muffins, some leftover spider donuts from below ground that Muffet had been convinced into giving out for free, and then, of course, Papyrus had brought the makings for spaghetti. Nobody seemed too keen on eating his brother's cooking, but Sans made a mental note to make sure he had some later, when Papyrus was in sight of his actions.  
  
Drinks mostly consisted of water, and what Grillby had in stock. It made for a pleasant array of choices, but not enough to make choosing difficult. The fire elemental was a very resourceful monster, having gathered berries from the woods for weeks on end to make up a fair collection of choices, much to Frisk's delight. And they were rather good. So good, in fact, that they were all banned from having more than one glance until it was certain everyone had gotten a taste. Sans was exempt by choice, having settled down at a table happily sipping from a bottle of ketchup. he wasn't sure if it really was one of Grillby's stock, or one that they had brought with them from Redemption, but it didn't really matter. Ketchup was ketchup.  
  
Just like earlier that day, Sans kept a low profile, trying to stay out of the way without looking like that was what he was trying to do. He wasn't hungry, though he had staved off any suspicion by having forced himself to eat something that morning. Papyrus and Toriel had looked relieved, and Sans felt guilty. They shouldn't be worried over whether he was eating or not. That was something that should be his concern, and his responsibility. The thought and sight of food made him feel ill, but he also knew that he had to keep his magic up, or he'd have far worse problems on his hands. He'd always been like that, unable to eat when he was stressed. Thankfully, that was an aspect of his personality that even Papyrus hadn't figured a pattern to yet. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, dancing, playing games, talking and chatting about their new lives on the Surface. Sans, however, wasn't really in the mood for any of that. Their time in the Outer Borders had gone by way too fast for Sans' taste. For him, after his talk with Hornbern, all of the light and joy went out of the trip. His troubles had followed him, and there was no escaping them. He never should have answered the phone and spared himself that much at least. But he had, and now his worried mind was paying for its stupidity.  
  
"SANS!"  
  
Papyrus' happy, enthused, and despite the music, exceptionally loud voice reached him and jolted Sans out of his thoughts. He looked up just in time for his brother to slip into the chair across from him with a flourish of limbs and a big, beaming smile.  
  
"BROTHER, WHY ARE YOU SITTING HERE ALL BY YOURSELF? YOU HAVE TO COME AND MINGLE!"  
  
He said the word proudly, as though he were feeling distinctly pleased with himself for using it. Actually, now that he thought of it, Sans realized he was pretty sure Papyrus' vocabulary didn't include the word 'mingle'. Someone must have taught it to him, and he had a sneaking suspicion as to whom. He sent the robot across the room a thickly shielded glare.  
  
"YOU CAN'T JUST SIT HERE EATING KETCHUP!"  
  
Sans grinned, taking another sip through his teeth, making sure to give a loud slurp. "Watch me. Heh heh- _oop!_ "  
  
The small skeleton nearly let out a squeak of surprise when Papyrus leaped up, grabbed him gently under the arms, and lifted him out of his seat. Despite the momentary flailing of small arms and legs, Papyrus managed to settle Sans on his hip, giving the smaller skeleton a pleased smirk.  
  
"THE GREAT PAPYRUS MEETS YOUR CHALLENGE, BROTHER! I WILL WATCH YOU, AND MAKE SURE YOU HAVE A GOOD TIME," he beamed.  
  
Sans...was okay with that, he realized, allowing himself to settle in his brother's hold, taking another, far more quiet sip of his ketchup. "Thanks, Pap. You're the coolest."  
  
"OF COURSE I AM!"  
  
With his brother forcing him into the fray of happy monsters, it wasn't long before Sans found himself forgetting his troubles. At first he merely observed the goings on around him from Papyrus' side, but as the night wore on he became far more social. So social, in fact, that Papyrus felt comfortable setting him down. Sans chatted with the Dogs, telling as many bone puns and jokes as he could get away with before Papyrus threatened to take away what remained of his ketchup. He stood and watched his brother and Undyne give a demonstration wrestling match, even though Undyne won, unsurprisingly. Papyrus didn't seem upset in the least, thankfully. Sans was even talked into a game with Frisk, a sort of aim and toss game that the children had set up. He was fairly good at it, and Frisk smiled at him with more relief and love than the skeleton dared to assess. And then, as the hours slipped by a bit more and all the feasting had turned into a light grazing, Sans found himself abandoned by his brother completely, sitting comfortably between Toriel and Asgore at one of the many tables in the lobby, watching as the dance floor was opened up to anyone who wanted to release a little pent up energy. Papyrus, naturally, always fit into that category to the extreme.  
  
Sans sat, leaning forward so that his arms rested on the table, rolling his empty ketchup bottle from one hand to another, the only sound coming from him being the light 'tik tik' of bone against glass. With his mind once again left to itself, he was falling into deep thought again, and he must have looked tired or uneasy, because before he knew it, Asgore's deep and kind voice was rumbling beside him.  
  
"How are you fairing, my friend?"  
  
Sans looked up, meeting his gaze, but Asgore added a little more, as way of explanation.  
  
"I mean, these last few days have been rather difficult for all of us, but for you especially. Are you...feeling any more relaxed?"  
  
'No' was the answer he wanted to give. But what kind of fool answer would that be? If he said 'no' then questions would follow and explanations would be sought after, and Sans wasn't willing to go through with that. Not tonight. Maybe never, if he could help it. He was tired of dealing with his wayward emotions, and he didn't need them being forced into the open for everyone to see. And so he allowed himself a gentle and tired smile.  
  
"Yeah. S'nice here."  
  
"It does feel rather more like home," Toriel agreed. "I mean, more like our old home. What with us monsters all together, and no meetings or Negotiations to worry about." She sighed, but it was content and fond. "These monsters deserve their freedom. They have toiled so long for it. It makes everything worth it."  
  
"…Yeah." Sans shifted slightly, giving his empty bottle a glance, trying to weigh whether it would be worth getting up and crossing the busy dance floor to find Grillby and get another.  
  
"And Professor Hornbern is an amazing man, helping us as he has."  
  
Toriel's words stopped his mind cold, his eye lights flitting up to focus on her face. Even as he himself tensed, Toriel seemed unaware of his discomfort, gazing fondly out as Frisk joined hands with Papyrus, dancing to the pleasant music. She didn't notice Sans' attention, nor the way that his hands tightened around the glass of his empty ketchup bottle.  
  
"Without him," she continued, "I really do not know what we would have done. He has shown us more kindness than many of the humans have offered, and has done more than any other to support our cause. He is a brave and caring man with a soul of kindness."  
  
Asgore nodded in agreement, taking a sip of his own beverage. "A man such as him is rare it would seem. It is only by his influence that we have managed it this far. He seems to know a good deal about our culture and history, more so than many of his kind. It is quite refreshing. I have even considered giving him more power in the deciding of the Negotiations. I trust his judgement." The king smiled, his eyes moving down to gaze at the small skeleton between him and his wife. "As Judge, Sans, what do you think of...Oh. Oh, my goodness, Sans, are you feeling quite alright?"  
  
Sans startled as the king's large paw-like hand settled on his shoulder, jolting him from the swirling pit of thoughts and emotions he could feel himself falling into. The room felt muffled, and yet somehow loud and overwhelming all at the same time. It was a familiar feeling. He recognized it as a climbing panic, and knew that it would be best if he went off somewhere to ride it out. Somewhere quiet. But he hadn't realized he was already shaking, and it was going to take a bit of effort to convince his now concerned king and queen that he wasn't about to fall apart.  
  
But Toriel’s words had shaken him. Did the others really hold Hornbern in such high respect? Did they truly think that the man that had made his life for the past week a waking nightmare, was really all that good? It made Sans feel sick and hopeless and trapped. Sick, because he knew Hornbern was deceiving them, and he was helping in that deception. Hopeless, because what would telling them matter? The deal was still set in place, and Sans could only admit that, at least in regards to Sans being a threat, the professor was right. And trapped, because he didn’t know where to turn for relief. And it was the last part that was feeding his growing panic.  
  
"Y-Yeah, sorry, just...heh. Just need some air I think."  
  
He stood rather shakily, pushing his chair back with a soft scrape. He slid his shoulder out and away from Asgore's touch, praying that the king had not felt the tremors through the contact. It didn't seem he had, otherwise Sans was sure he would have voiced it to Toriel immediately. The two boss monsters were like that. Quick, to the point, and parental. Sans managed to hide the shaking in his hands by stuffing them into his pockets. They didn't feel as comforting as the pockets of his favorite coat, but it would do for now. The reminder that his original, blue jacket lay in the labyrinth of Hornbern's office and supposed secret rooms, made the panic and dread in Sans' chest grow impossibly tighter.  
  
Toriel stood as well, reaching out to lightly brush his arm with her fingers, looking slightly hurt when he shifted away from her reach. "Are you ill?" she asked, concerned.  
  
"Naw, just a little...too much ketchup." The skeleton recited the lie like it was the proven word of truth. "I'm gonna...go and take a little walk. But I'll be back in a little while," he assured. "Later."  
  
Asgore frowned, watching the skeleton with more attention than he usually did. But he nodded slowly. "Very well. We will...see you when you return."  
  
Sans nodded, before quickly making his way toward the back of the lobby with as much pose as he could manage. There were far less monsters there, only a few passing through from one room to the next, and they held very little interest in him. As soon as he was out of everyone's sight, the skeleton shifted directions to head away from the door leading outside instead of toward it. Climbing the elegant staircase to the second floor of the resort, he breathed a shaky sigh of relief as he found that, other than himself, it was deserted. Here, he could let go a little, allowing the familiar heat of panic sweep through his soul and bones, causing his breathing to get harder, and his hands, now limp at his sides, to shake hard and freely.  
  
_Darn it!_ He was such a pathetic creature. Was he ever going to learn that he took things too seriously? His mind tried to soothe him, saying that Hornbern was just trying to help him and the others, even if the human did tend to lie to his friends and family, hurting him either intentionally or unintentionally. Didn’t matter. It still hurt. Still exhausted him. Drained him. Made him afraid. But he was used to being afraid. He’d been afraid of things his whole life. Afraid of losing his brother. Afraid of failing again and again and again. Afraid of Chara. Afraid of Flowey. Afraid of nightmares and memories he couldn’t control. Then of course he would find something on the Surface to be afraid of, no matter how unorthodox. The universe couldn’t possibly let him actually be freed from all of his suffering, naturally. Of course. He shouldn’t have hoped for any better.  
  
He was such an idiot.  
  
He was such a fool.  
  
He was a _mess_.  
  
“O-Ok…Shhh,” he hushed to himself. “Stop that. Y-Your only making yourself worse. Just…breathe. Come one, breathe. In…….and out. That’s it. Again…”  
  
After having suffered these small, though annoyingly inescapable attacks  for so long, Sans had learned that the easiest way to deal with them was alone and somewhere quiet. Fighting to contain them only made the panic worse, but letting go helped them pass more quickly. But he was starting to get a little too worked up he realized, when a small whimper snuck out between a few harsh wheezes and mutterings. He needed to move even further away, lest anyone hear him from below and come looking for the source of his pathetic noises.  
  
Making his way down the hall, a hand trailing along the wall to help keep him grounded, he began searching for a more remote part of the resort. His and Papyrus' own room was out of the question, it would be the first place his brother would look when he noticed Sans was missing. And as nice as a comforting Papyrus’ hug would be, Sans wanted to wait until he was sure he wouldn't make a scene. Hugs didn't solve or dissolve panic anyway, but they certainly helped him afterward. Right now he needed an unassuming, rarely used room, and he seemed to remember one at the very end of the long hallway on the far side of the resort. He had spotted it during their tour of the place that they had received their first day there. If he remembered right, it was a darker door than the rest, one of the few doors crafted from a surface tree rather than the weak, pale trees of Snowdin.  
  
There it was. Sitting in a more shaded portion of the hall and almost hidden in the shadows. Just as Sans remembered it being.  
  
Checking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being followed and that no one would see him enter, he immediately pushed his weight against the door with a little more strength than he usually did, anxious to hide away. The door opened easily, and it was a relief knowing it wasn't locked. Sans stepped in, about to shut the door behind him, when a startled voice froze him stiff.  
  
"Sans?! Wha- What in Asgore's name _are_ you doing in here?!"  
  
His mind screamed _'run'_ as the prim, pink robot stared at him in surprise, sitting cross legged on a padded seat in front of a brightly lit mirror. The popular individual looked to have been 'freshening up', whatever that might imply for artificial metal plating and gears.  He had obviously been quite relaxed, but now sat straight and indignant as Sans stood in the doorway like a stature. The bulbous lights surrounding the mirror cast an eerie light about the room that only made Sans feel more uneasy. It wasn't difficult now to see the room for what it was; some sort of dressing, or powder room.   
  
_Stupid_ , Sans’ mind chanted.  _Stupid, stupid, stupid! Turn around and leave!_  
  
Mettaton was rising now, standing, and he was so, so tall. Was he always that tall?! Sans found himself taking a nervous step backward, but unable to turn and leave as his panic, for whatever reason, decided to kick up to the breaking point. Surprises were never good for his attacks, and he was certainly very surprised. And not ready to deal with Mettaton’s overbearing nature. The robot wanted to know what he was doing. But he couldn’t explain now. That would only raise more questions. As it was, the robot was giving him a very strange look, stepping even closer.  
  
_Run!_  
  
"Sans?"  
  
"W-Walk," the skeleton managed, cursing the uncharacteristic stutter. Get a hold of yourself! He once again slipped his hands into his pockets, trying to appear lazy and uncaring. "Just takin' a walk. B-Big place." It wasn’t working. His voice was too strained. Too shaken.  
  
Mettaton's curious and slightly worried look dissolved into one of contemptible annoyance. "I gave you a tour of this place when you arrived. There's no need for you to go about skulking in and out of doors."  
  
Sans forced a chuckle. "Heh. Don't ya m-mean  _skull_ -king?"  
  
The robot's mechanical eyes narrowed. "Shouldn't you be downstairs? Entertaining guests with your ridiculous puns?"  
  
"Why should I? When it's more fun for me to annoy you with them up here." That sounded a little odd, even for him, but he covered it up with a hurried, "What are you doing up here all alone, anyway? I mean, aren't y-you the host of that shindig downstairs?"  
  
He was barely holding on.  
  
The shaking in his hands was getting harder to suppress. He really needed to leave. He needed to curl up somewhere and let the panic take its course through him. But Mettaton was standing there, watching, a mechanical alert ready to go off the minute Sans made a mistake. Mettaton would probably enjoy that. Sans was pretty sure word of his fit at the Negotiations had not reached as far as the Outer Boarders. Mettaton wouldn't know. No one but those of Redemption were aware of just how much of a walking time bomb he was as of late, and the others didn't know even half of what he knew. He was afraid that if he got too panicked now, he might end up losing control again completely. He could almost see it, him losing control of his reason and magic, tearing a hole through the wall of the resort like water through paper. Or worse, he might hurt someone. Kill someone. The thought of dust motes trailing down, on his hands, scattered all over the floor; it was almost more than he could bear to think about. Hornbern's words echoed like the toll of a bell in his mind, warning him of the danger he was, to himself as well as all those he cared for. He was more than a monster. He was a menace. A freak.  A weapon on a trigger. All it would take was one, little-"  
  
"Are you listening to me?!"  
  
Sans  _jolted_. _Hard_. So hard, in fact, that his spine made a loud grinding sound of bone against wood as he fell against the now somehow closed door. His mind was much further along into his panic than he had previously realized. In fact, if he were properly focused enough to rate it, it was more than likely far higher than normal, even during one of his usual attacks. He couldn't even see straight, everything a blur, a mix of swirling, shifting colors. But he could tell something was close. Too close. Far too close, and hovering over him, and in that moment, Sans forgot who else was in the room with him entirely. He couldn't even recall if he was in a room at all. With a jerky movement wrought of desperation and fear, he lashed out with a single, ill-aimed bone.  
  
Mettaton jumped back, the conjured weapon missing him by inches. "What in-? Sans! What is wrong with you?! You nearly..." He trailed off, watching as Sans panted heavily, braced as far back against the door as he could, trembling hard enough that it was almost audible, even through his clothing and coat. This was wrong. Something was very wrong. "...Sans?"  
  
_This was familiar. The feeling of magic and fear and panic swirling within his core. He had felt it many times before. Many. More than he could count. But it was also different. There was no golden hall, no prepared speech, no blaster at the ready to make him feel at least partially prepared for what he knew would come. No. These walls were gray. And cold. And made of metal. It was huge, and it was empty, and he was all alone. All alone except for that voice. Urging him to fight. Urging him to gather his magic and expell it like poison from his body. And that magic burned in him. It hurt. It hurt so much.  
  
He didn't want to.  
  
He didn't.  
  
He tried to hold back.  
  
Tried to beg for it to stop, to make it go away.  
  
But he had no choice.  
  
Sans could feel his magic responding, building against his better judgement and will. Hornbern wanted him to fire. He had to do so. He had to obey. If he didn't everything was going to fall apart. If he didn't everything would come crashing down in a horrific end. Something would happen, he didn't know what, but it would. It would be bad, and Frisk would reset and he'd wake up in Snowdin and everything was endingendingendingeindingohgodswhatwashappeningohgods-!  
  
He couldn't take it. He felt his legs give out beneath him, hitting hard and jolting him roughly as he hit the floor. He was muttering, but the words that came were gibberish, he didn't know what they meant. And then something was hurting him. His wrists stung, and something was grabbing him, trying to make him move a certain way and do something Sans was very certain he didn't want to do and he was scared...Someone was yelling his name, and with each call he felt it like a blow. Hornbern wanted him to fire.  
  
Wanted him to fire.  
  
Wanted him to fire.  
  
Fire.  
  
Can't.  
  
He couldn't.  
  
He didn't want to...  
  
"DO IT."  
  
"C-Can't..."  
  
"SANS."  
  
"S-Stop! Please, stop! Don't make me-"  
  
"SANS."  
  
"No!"  
  
"SANS!"  
  
"St-Stop!"  
.  
.  
._  
  
"Sans?!"  
  
The voice was different now. More earnest. Desperate. More concerned, but Sans hardly noticed. He was so hurt. Pain laced through him, and he felt as though he would scream. But all that came out was a string of broken breaths and pleas.  
  
"Please, please-I-I c-can't I-I-please, I c-can't, d-don't-"  
  
Something hovered beside him, gripping his wrists, restraining him.  
  
"Sans, it's...it's alright...just...just..."  
  
Things were starting to clear now, a little. Reality was fading back in, and he hadn't even realized he had left it. Sans blinked, confused by the strange pattern before his eyes. It was nauseating, thick and swirling like his own vision. He was murmuring to it, and must have been for some time, going by how stiff he seemed in whatever position he was in. Tears dripped from his sockets, unchecked, falling to the pattern and staining it with little blue-tinted drops. The pattern was familiar...  
  
It was a carpet.  
  
A carpet, not the steel walls of a prison chamber. It was a normal, household carpet, almost sickeningly ornate. Sans knew it. He recognized it. A rough sob ripped from his nonexistent throat in the form of a desperate breath, as though it was the first he had taken in a worryingly long time. He was shaking, and hot, and sick. He couldn't even gather the strength to raise his head at first, and only continued staring down at the carpet like it was the only thing keeping him sane.  
  
Maybe it was.  
  
Something was trying to shift him, talking to him. And though he could hear the words, he was far too tired to put any effort into trying to figure out what they meant yet. It was all so confusing and overwhelming still. Too much. Far too much. The voice spoke again, this time accompanied with a light shake that made his body ache all the more. Sans cringed, unable to determine what it was saying, or even where it was coming from. He felt terribly disoriented. But, as it continued, repeating over and over, sounding more desperate each time, Sans realized it was a name. His?  
His mind beginning to clear a little further, Sans lifted his head with a great deal of effort, blinking owlishly as he gazed right up into a face as familiar as the carpet beneath him.  
  
Mettaton was more frightened than he had ever been in his life. All the joy and smirking smugness that had dominated his features only moments before was now replaced by a desperate concern for the monster before him. Sans had  _collapsed_. The fall had been too sudden to predict, and the sound of a small body falling to its knees on carpet had been the only sound for several horrible seconds before the robot had actually realized something was wrong. He had crouched down on one knee beside Sans' shivering, almost convulsing form, feeling all at once incredibly helpless.  
  
The small skeleton's mind was still a whirling sea of thoughts and...memories? He hated when he got like this, and hated all the more that Mettaton was there to witness it. Sans hadn't had any attacks like this since he had first broken down about the resets. But that had been under the watchful eyes of those closest to him; the other monsters had no idea about anything that he had been through, perhaps Mettaton least of all. But now, here he was getting a full sampling of just how broken and messed up Sans really was.  
  
"How can I help?" was the first sentence coming from the overgrown tin can that Sans was actually able to understand, and it only made him burn with all the more shame because he knew there was nothing anyone could do.  
  
But still.  
  
"T-Tor-Tori?"  
  
Mettaton paused, as though the skeleton's words hadn't been quite clear, before he repeated the request, making sure he had gotten it right. "The Queen?"  
  
Sans nodded shakily.  
  
"Alright. Just a minute, okay?" Why did the robot sound so worried? "Just...Just stop doing that for a minute, alright?"  
  
Doing what? What was he doing?  
  
Sans suddenly seemed to regain the use of his eyes, moving them down to gaze at where he realized Mettaton actually had a hold of him. When had that happened? There were way too many questions; way too many gaps in his memory and understanding, but what he could see made his soul jolt, before a cold feeling rushed through him.  
  
Mettaton had a firm grasp of both his wrists, so tightly that Sans could have sworn they were warping under the pressure. But, despite the restraint, the skeletal fingers kept trying to dig into each other, into his arms, into anything; coated in a very fine layer of dust.  
His dust.  
  
Sans shuddered, his hands going slack in the other's grip, much to Mettaton's relief. But the machine was still far too frightened and concerned to let go. He had never seen Sans so...out of control. The skeleton was shivering violently, head bowed and breaths coming in small, painful gasps. Mettaton had seen something like this in Alphys once or twice, but never would have expected it of the oldest skeleton brother. Not Sans. Not laid back, smiling, seemingly unflappable Sans. He just didn't seem like the panic attack type.  
  
"I am...going to let go now," he spoke carefully; mechanical eyes flitting down to the painful looking grooves Sans had scratched across the bones of his own arms. "Can you...Will you stay here?"  
  
Sans had briefly thought of teleporting away, but exhaustion and low magic reserves instantly buried that thought too deep to retrieve. He nodded, slow and numb.  
  
Mettaton would have swallowed roughly had he been capable. He nodded also, slowly retracting his metal fingers from bone, only for Sans to simply let his arms and shoulders go slack; allowing his body to curl up in a ball. The robot stood to his feet uncertainly, before sprinting for the door and down into the downstairs hall.  
  
Sans didn't care, even as he heard the clunky footfalls disappear only to be replaced by silence. A horrible, nightmarish silence that seemed to last forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long guys! But here it is ^^ Thanks to my amazing beta-reader, Pipann!


	16. Catch and Carry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to finish and get posted! I've been so busy!
> 
> A final special thanks to Pipann for being my beta-reader for so long! THANKS!

Mettaton raced down the stairwell as though he were driven by a nuclear fission, his usual grace and pose abandoned in his rush to find someone,  _anyone_ , who could handle this situation better than him. The image of Sans's panicked gaze and the heavy feeling of the skeleton's roiling magic left the robot feeling frightened and uneasy. Hoping that the monster kneeling alone upstairs would still be there when he returned with help, Mettaton took the carpeted steps two at a time before reaching the ground floor where he raced across to dash into the lobby. Monsters looked up at his passing with confusion, but, for once, he hardly noticed the attention. Most everyone was too busy dancing, eating, or talking to give him much thought, but one pair of eyes picked up on the robot's panicked behavior almost immediately.

Toriel had been casting worried glances toward the door leading to the hall ever since Sans had left. The skeleton's abrupt departure had left her feeling worried and uncertain. Since their time outside the Barrier, Toriel had become very aware and conscious of Sans's various moods. She couldn't read him as well as Papyrus, or even Frisk, but the times spent chatting with him through the Ruins door had given her an insight into some of the fluctuations in his voice that most didn't even pick up on. Like how his tone lowered slightly when he was feeling uneasy. Or the way he became just a bit quieter when he was upset. Sans' perpetual grin was usually enough to hide those things from most people. But not her. Toriel could read Sans like a book. A book with many closed off pages that, with love and care, were slowly being turned open and healed of their tears.

When Sans had left the lobby, he had sounded...strained. And that was worrying. He had seemed fine all evening. In fact, since they had arrived at the Outer Boarders he had seemed fairly relaxed and content, like they had all hoped he would. But now, something had changed. Toriel had hoped maybe he really had just needed some air. It wasn't unusual for Sans to feel a little overwhelmed at times and seek someplace to gather his thoughts a bit. But he should have been back by now, and Toriel didn't like what that might imply. In fact, she had just decided that she was going to get up and go check on her friend when a flash of pink caught her eyes. Mettaton, looking far more frazzled than she had ever seen him, lurched into the room, glancing about rather frantically as he stood in the doorway. It was a moment before he spotted her, and, in that moment, when their eyes met, Toriel knew that something was seriously wrong. She rose to her feet, slow so as not to call too much attention from those around her, but stiff, a hand reaching out to get Asgore's attention as Mettaton moved swiftly over to their table.

"Something is wrong?" Toriel inquired, all seriousness in her tone. It didn't sound much like a question, because she was already so certain that something was wrong. Mettaton nodded. If he were a non-mechanical being he might have been gasping from a long sprint like he had just accomplished.

" _It's_   _Sans_ ," the robot informed in a hurried hiss. "He's upstairs and he's-"

Toriel and Asgore were already on the move, Toriel straight for the hallway and Asgore trailing behind just long enough to get Undyne's attention with a subtle wave. Papyrus, somehow sensing an urgency in the air when Undyne abruptly took off after their king and queen, and noticing in one sweep of his gaze around the room that Sans was nowhere in sight, patted Frisk on the head before walking swiftly after the others. Mettaton quickly took the lead once more, running back up the steps with what sounded to him like an army of monsters behind him. The swift, agile steps of Undyne and Papyrus, Toriel's heavier footfalls, and Asgore deep, soul vibrating thumps. There was something very comforting about those sounds, and Mettaton focused on showing them the way to their fallen friend's side.

Sans had barely moved an inch, the only thing slightly different being his posture. He didn't even look up as the room was suddenly invaded by worried friends and family. He was either still too stunned from his attack or he simply didn't have the energy to respond to their presence. He was still on his knees, though he had arched forward at some point, causing his spine to bend and his head to fall forward until he was curled up with his forehead pressed to the carpet. It couldn't have been comfortable, and succeeded in nothing more than in making Sans look pitifully small. Like some little, broken puppet.

As Mettaton raced into the room, Papyrus right on his heels, the robot come to a halt just inside the door, stepping to the side as he allowed the others to pass. Feeling completely out of his league, he watched as Papyrus dropped to his knees in front of Sans, trying to get the smaller skeleton to sit up and allow him to look him over.

"SANS? H-HEY, CAN YOU HEAR ME? BROTHER, ARE YOU...?" Papyrus froze, emitting a sharp gasp as he discovered his brother's dust covered wrists. "LADY TORIEL!" Moving Sans up by force for the smaller's own good, he took his brother's limp hands in his own as he surveyed the harm Sans had unknowingly done to himself, wincing at the rough scratches that latticed the normally smooth bone. Worry over the other's HP was Papyrus's first concern, which a quick CHECK quickly affirmed that, while his HP had lowered a little, it was nothing too serious. Nothing life threatening anyway. But it explained why Sans was so out of it at the moment. When one had such a low HP to begin with, when it dropped, it could render its soul and body almost catatonic until a way was found to raise it once more.

Toriel moved swiftly to Papyrus's side, giving a gasp of her own as she caught a glimpse of the damage. "Oh, Sans..."

Papyrus held his brother close, looking up at Toriel pleadingly. "C-CAN YOU HEAL HIM? I...I'M NOT SO GOOD AT IT, AND HE NEEDS..." His voice choked off, and Toriel realized he was fighting off tears. She gave him a shaky smile.

"Of course, dear...Just, let me see what I can do." She reached down gently, taking the scratched arms as Papyrus moved Sans into a better position. The small skeleton blinked, but it was the only response to anything they were doing. She started off with her magic as a gentle trickle, not wanting to overwhelm the other. He was so small, too much magic could leave him feeling even more unsteady. There was such a thing as being 'drunk' on magic, not in the sense that humans sometimes got drunk on those foul beverages, but a sort of tingling, giddy stimulation that she didn't think Sans really needed at the moment. There was such a thing as having too much magic in one's system, just as there was such a thing as having too little. And finding a balance between the two was not always easy, especially for someone like Sans, whose low HP made that fact so much thinner a line to cross. The trickle slowly grew, until Toriel was pumping a small, steady stream of healing magic into him, causing the room to glow gently in a comfortable warmth. Sans jolted at the power being pushed into him, and gave a weak grunt, though, thankfully, not of pain like she feared at first. After a moment or two, he blinked up at her, a little more lucid. Though not much.

Asgore and Undyne watched worryingly from the doorway, having chose to stay back, watching Papyrus and Toriel's ministrations. After several tense and uncertain minutes passed, the fish-like monster's eye reeled toward the robot, sharp and questioning.

"What happened?" she demanded, voice tight, but with an unusual underlying of concern.

"I-I don't kn-"

"That's not what I asked!" she snapped, causing him to jump. "I didn't ask if you understood, I asked what you saw! Gosh darn it, Mettaton, can't you just answer a simple question?! What happened?!"

From her place on the floor, Toriel frowned as Sans flinched hard at the deep, commanding anger in Undyne's voice, even though it wasn't directed at him. She raised her head, sending the ex-captain a firm glance. "Undyne, please. It is not his fault. We are all worried. Please, try to contain your temper."

Undyne quieted at once, her heated gaze fixing back on the way Papyrus was gently trying to coax Sans uncurl his legs a bit. It was a defensive pose, she acknowledged, the kind people took up when they felt threatened or afraid. Toriel's equally careful hands continued trying to heal the scratches on the small, skeletal hands and wrists. Undyne's gaze lightened, filled with a pity and sadness she rarely exhibited. This was worse than Sans's usual fits. While she wasn't usually the one to deal with them, the Captain had seen Sans suffer the strange attacks more than once, especially early on in his recovery from the resets. But even those weren't like this. Sans looked shell-shocked. He looked absolutely broken, hardly shifting at all on his own, no matter how much love and cooing encouragement Toriel and Papyrus gave him. When Toriel had given all the healing she could, and Papyrus pulled him into a hug, Sans didn't even hug back. Just sort of let himself be enveloped, limp and shaking. She could hear his rattling bones all the way from the doorway. And his arms...Sans had done a lot of things during his fits in the past. He'd screamed, cried, hallucinated, hyperventilated, and been downright delusional at his worst. But he had never hurt himself. And if those painful little groves in his arms, that Toriel even now was frowning worriedly over, were caused by what Undyne suspected...Well. Sans hadn't done that before. That was going to have to be addressed, before he really caused himself damage.

Mettaton stayed as he was, gaze flicking between them all, trying to determine what was happening. What  _had_  happened? Sans wasn't the type to just lose it like that. He wasn't the type to suddenly fall trembling to his knees, muttering and pleading like his soul was being torn in two. But he had. He  _had_. And it was eating away at the metal casing of Mettaton's artificial stomach, guilt bubbling up, wondering if, in some way, this was his fault. He and Sans might not be on the best of terms...but he never would have wished the other any harm.  _Never_.

"He is alright," Toriel was saying now, tilting her head in their direction, but eyes never leaving Sans for a moment. "He will be...a bit out of it for a while. Is there some place he can lay down? Someplace other than the room he was given? Somewhere more secluded?" The last thing Sans needed was for word of his meltdown to spread further than it already had. His bedroom was far too close to the staircase for her liking.

Mettaton blinked, then nodded, more uncertainty in his voice than there had ever been. "Y-Yes...In the next room. It's...another guest room. The closest one from here to the door's right and furthest from the steps than any other. There's a bed."

Toriel nodded, helping Papyrus to slowly get Sans standing. He did so very shakily, clinging to their support now as though it was the only thing grounding him to reality. His hazy eye lights stared into space, though outwardly it looked like he was fixed with his gaze glued to the carpet. Toriel and Papyrus waited to see if he would, even in his dazed state, stay standing, and, when he did, barely, they began urging him toward the door. Carefully, the three made their way past and out into the hall, Asgore following with kindly concern, and leaving Undyne and Mettaton in the room alone. The minute the dressing room was clear, Undyne, looking only slightly less aggressive, turned her attention back to the robot.

"What happened?"

Mettaton gave a sigh that wasn't really needed, moving to sink into the nearest chair. He rubbed a metal hand down his face, somehow managing to look exhausted. "I was freshening up. Happens you know, even to someone like myself. Gotta be oiled and whatnot...Anyway. I was sitting over there by the mirror. Everyone was downstairs, so I figured I had a few moments. But then Sans...He came charging in like he owned the place and...and, well..." Now that Mettaton thought back on it, Sans hadn't looked all that well. He had been sweating. And shaking a bit. But he, Mettaton, in his self-centered indignation, hadn't noticed. "I tried to...get him to leave-"

"You didn't touch him did you?" Undyne gritted, glaring. "You didn't try to force him out physically, did you?" The fins on her head bristled in obvious defense, ready to chew him out the minute he admitted to the crime, but, thankfully, the answer to that question was 'no'. He might have ended up a flattened bean can otherwise.

"No! No, of course not!" he defended passionately. "I didn't lay a finger on him!" Mettaton's metallic brow furrowed. "He seemed...normal at first. I mean, as normal as can be for him. Spouting puns and other such nonsense, you know, like he usually does...But then he kind of just...started getting very fidgety. He wasn't listening, so I stood up and, I don't know, made it clear I wasn't about to be ignored." Mettaton mentally winced, recalling his angry voice demanding Sans's attention. "He...jumped. I think I frightened him. He fell against the door, closing it, and then he was trembling so hard and murmuring and-" He broke off, feeling a need to salvage at least some of the skeleton's dignity. "...And I didn't know what to do! He fell down onto the carpet, and, naturally I was confused...But then he started...started to..." The robot gestured to his arms, helplessly, and Undyne had no need for further explanation.

"How long did the fit last?" Undyne asked, now far more calm, though her stance still held a tense rigidity. "How long did it take you to...How long before he seemed to recognize who you were?" Her eye was inspecting the slowly fading bone construct still lodged in the wall to their left. Mettaton had almost forgotten the thing was even there.

"...Maybe a minute or two? Three at the most," the robot offered.

Undyne frowned, her gaze drifting toward the door in a disturbingly worried way. "That's longer than usual..."

"You mean this has happened before?! Is that-! Is...Is that...That  _isn't_  normal!"

Undyne gave a tired huff, sitting down on a conveniently placed crate. "It's more normal than we'd like," she admitted.

That didn't sound...good. In fact, that sounded terrible, and far more concerning than Mettaton ever thought he would feel in regard to the shorter of the skeleton brothers. He wasn't heartless, after all - though Sans would have probably pointed out in a heartbeat that, being a robot, he didn't actually have a heart. The thought only made Mettaton feel more guilty.

"Will he be...alright?"

Undyne gave a shrug that didn't seem nearly as careless as it was probably meant to have been. "He's in good hands. Papyrus will get his mental state back in balance, and Toriel will heal up the...scratches. Don't be surprised if he tries to avoid you for a while though. He doesn't like people seeing him like...that." Not to mention that this was an especially bad case. Sans, when he finally gained back his senses, would be horribly embarrassed.

Mettaton shrugged. Sans usually avoided him anyway. But a certain amount of uncomfortable responsibility hung over him. Sans had been in  _his_  room,  _his_  resort, when the fit had happened. He had been the only one there to help him, and now, looking back, he wished he had done more. There must have been something he could have done differently. Something he could have done to keep Sans from hurting himself, or done quicker to stop him before he even started. And then, of course, even though not even Undyne was accusing him, there was the fact that his shouting at Sans might have been the tipping point. And that thought just made the robot feel terrible.

"Do you think they...need any help?"

Undyne blinked, slowly, taking in the unusual flare of sincerity in Mettaton's voice. She seemed confused, and slightly apprehensive. Yeah, she didn't dislike him as much as Sans did, but she had never been one of his biggest fans. Not even minutely. She considered him a hyped up, wimpy, pink glitter magnet that Alphys had made out of pure boredom during one of her depressed spells before she had met her. She typically didn't give him much attention, outside of a few sarcastic remarks and the occasional growl of annoyance. But, at the moment, she seemed to actually be considering him with a further depth than she ever had.

"...It must have been...pretty bad," she finally commented, almost gently. "If it made you  _this_  worried about  _Sans_."

Mettaton looked understandably indignant. "I'm not a soulless twit, Undyne. I may have my...reservations on whether or not I wish to be in Sans's company, but that doesn't mean I...It doesn't mean I wish him harm."

Undyne let his words sink in, before looking away, uncomfortable. "Yeah. Yeah, none of us do. But he  _is_  hurting. And no matter how hard any of us try, it doesn't seem to get any better."

"Did..." He had to tread carefully here. "Did something happen? To Sans, I mean. In the city or something?"

"No. No, not that we know of." The likelihood of a human, or even another monster, getting their hands on Sans was almost laughable. Undyne had tried for years whenever the little skeleton managed to weasel his way out of his sentry shifts in Snowdin. Sans's little 'shortcuts' made catching him impossible. So she brushed the possibility of Mettaton's suggestion away immediately. "He's just...been through a lot."

The tone of defeat in her voice was frightening. Undyne the Undying, former Captain of the Royal Guard, had never sounded like that. Was never  _meant_  to sound like that. She was meant to be the heroine. Th unstoppable force that spoke, and acted, and protected for the good of her people. And yet here she sat, brow furrowed and expression grim. Like there was a war being fought in the next room and she believed it had already been lost.

"Since we came to the Surface?"

"Yes...But also before. He...all that time, he never told us that-" Undyne suddenly stopped, words freezing in her throat as her one-eyed gaze snapped up to meet his own confused expression. She looked startled, and at first Mettaton thought it was because she had remembered something or other regarding Sans getting hurt, and his soul within his casing dropped, before her words eased his tension. "I shouldn't be telling you. That isn't up to me to tell."

Mettaton blinked, slightly hurt. "...Then, who is?"

"Sans. Or Papyrus. But..." Undyne paused. "Don't push them, okay? I mean, they've  _both_  been through a lot since we got up here, and...Sans even before that. It does have to do with...all of us, so I can't just say forget about it. But understand that it also isn't my place to decide whether or not Sans wants you to know. There are a lot of people who don't know, and I think he likes it better that way." Her gaze hardened just a bit, meeting his eyes evenly. Warningly. "So go easy on the bonehead, alright? Try to keep your voice down and all that crap. He's...jumpy. Got it?"

He nodded.

"Good. Now...you said you, uh, wanted to help them?" Again Mettaton nodded, more slowly this time. Careful. As though he were slightly wary of just what he might be getting himself into. "Huh. That's really nice and all of you, but...Well, they've got both Toriel and Asgore in there with them, so, like, even if the worst happened, two boss monsters would be able to...take care of the situation." She paused, watching him carefully. "I really think we should...leave them be for now. I know it's hard, after all that just happened, but believe me, it's for the best."

Mettaton looked down at the pink carpeted floor. "...If you think that is what's best then...I suppose it is." Mettaton rose to his feet, feeling heavier and stiffer than he usually did, and he wasn't sure if it was the pure weight of the situation or if his body was in need of oil. He turned his gaze back to Undyne. "So, what  _do_  we do?"

"Go back down and join the party." Undyne rose as well. "Pretend nothing is wrong. The last thing Sans needs is a bunch of attention." She fixed the robot with a dangerous glare. "And if I find you've gone and made some sorta news story out of this I'm gonna-"

"I won't." His words sounded sincere. "I promise."

Undyne searched his gaze a moment longer before she nodded slowly, satisfied. "Good. Now let's get down there. People are going to start getting suspitious if their 'star and host' is absent. I'll go and...quietly tell Alphys what's up. She'll probably want to check over Sans later, but...for now he's going to just need rest." She headed for the door, before Mettaton's voice stopped her.

"Captian?"

"...Yeah?"

"...I'm...I'm sorry I wasn't exactly...helpful, in this situation."

Undyne looked guilty, giving a strange semi-reassuring smile. "Eh, don't worry. We, uh, all kind of feel that way when Sans gets like this. Believe me, the first time it happened when I was in the room I...Well, let's just say I made everything worse and leave it at that."

Well. At least that made him feel like he wasn't the only unintentional jerk in the world. "Thank you, Captain."

Undyne gave a nod before turning and making her way back downstairs. Mettaton remained standing in the room for a moment or two longer, before moving out himself. But not before sending a worried glance in the direction of the guest room furthest from the stairs.

* * *

As soon as they had left Mettaton's dressing room, Papyrus had shifted from supporting Sans's arm to reaching down and lifting his brother up and into his arms, just like he had always done back in their days in Snowdin. Like he used to on those days when Sans seemed particularly sad, clingy, or in need of support. Toriel hadn't protested, allowing the taller skeleton to move Sans until the smaller was latched weakly onto his front. The only break in the silence for a few moments was the sound of weighted feet on carpeted hallway flooring, Papyrus's lighter steps, and Toriel and Asgore's heavier ones trailing behind. It wasn't much, but it gave Sans's muddled mind something to focus on as he struggled for some part of reality to hold on to. There was a headache blooming in his skull, and his soul pulsed along with it, making him feel a little nauseous. Slowly but surely, he was coming back to himself. Enough to feel guilty about the raucous he had doubtless made.  _Again_.

He had been aware of the others' ministrations, but had felt like he was caught in molasses, stuck and slowed down to almost a standstill. He had wanted to react, reassure them, but had been unable to. And that just made things feel even more awful. He wasn't quite sure what he was feeling. Anxious. Fearful. Fidgety. Like he wanted to run and keep running until he dropped, and yet so exhausted he felt like everything that made him up might just quit and leave him to die. He tried lifting his head up from resting against Papyrus's shoulder, but he felt like he was being weighed down by an inescapable force. He was too tired. But he had to let his brother know he was alright somehow, and that was the only thing that gave him the strength to murmur out what was the start of an apology, but ended up being little more than a strained, weak exhale of air against Papyrus's shoulder.

"SHH. DON'T SAY ANYTHING, BROTHER," Papyrus hushed, his hand on Sans's back pushing him against his chest a little more firmly. "NOT YET. JUST...RELAX, ALRIGHT?"

The urge to obey the command to just sit there and be held was too much. Sans was only too happy to oblige, slumping against Papyrus's chest and just allowing the other to carry him.

Papyrus felt the added weight as Sans let himself go, not that it was very much. Sans was worryingly small and, at times such as this, frail. He knew that his brother was older, but it was times like these that that knowledge was simply pushed back into the recesses of his mind, allowing him to be the big brother for once. There had been a lot of 'for once's in the past. More than Papyrus cared to count. It usually happened whenever Sans had run himself ragged. Made himself ill, or broken down from exhaustion. He hated when Sans did those things. They frightened him.

Papyrus was faintly aware that Toriel and Asgore were walking beside and slightly behind him, though he had almost forgotten before Asgore's soft, deep voice broke the silence.

"Is he alright, Papyrus?"

Asgore had only witnessed a few of Sans' fits. Far fewer than any of the others. That was probably do to the fact that he and Sans didn't really spend much time together one on one. Their interests were completely different. Toriel and Sans had their puns. Alphys and Sans had their science. Frisk and Sans had their quiet conversations and understandings. And Undyne and Sans had him, because the Great Papyrus could bring even two very different people together in friendship. And then he, of course, was Sans' brother. But Asgore, he liked to garden, and Sans didn't really like flowers. Or tea.

Papyrus rubbed absently at Sans' back, gentle and reassuring. "HE IS...RECOVERING."

Sans gave a slight hum of gratitude at his brother's comfort, eyes pressed shut and face turned so that he could focus on nothing else other than his brother. The dull ache in his arms, where a sharp sting had resided only a short time before, told him what his memory could not remember. That he had gotten hurt, and that Toriel had used healing magic on him to try and fix that hurt. He knew that he had suffered another one of his attacks, though he was also blatantly aware that it was worse than normal. His triggers and memories usually revolved around being touched unexpectedly, or seeing dust-like substances or knives. Toriel tended to keep Redemption as clean as possible, doing so when Sans was out of the house so that he didn't have to see her sweeping up the brown and gray dirt piles into the dustpan before she threw it into the wastebasket. Knives were kept hidden in a drawer where Sans knew enough to avoid them, and he stayed out of the kitchen usually whenever the knives were in use. Though he had gotten better. Like when Toriel had been cutting apples at the beginning of the week. Though, he had suffered a little fit then too, hadn't he?

Sans didn't know.

He didn't care.

He was just so tired.

As for the touching, well, the others knew enough not to startle him. Undyne had learned that lesson the hard way, once yelling over at him when he hadn't known she was there. He had launched an attack in her direction faster than she could react. The bone construct hadn't done much damage, but the fact had been proven. Sans was to be warned of their presence before they addressed him. Over their time on the Surface that had come in a variety of creative ways, from tapping a knuckle against a door or wall as they entered a room, or just making sure he saw them come in. Not that Sans was a particularly touchy individual anyway. The only ones he ever let hold or touch him for any length of time was Papyrus, Frisk, and, to some degree, Toriel.

But that was all beside the point.

This fit had been vastly different than his norm. Yes, he had been on edge, but not in any of the usual ways. There was no dark void. No Chara. No death that he could recall. None of his usual triggers that he had learned to recognize and, at least to some degree, deal with or avoid. There had just been Hornbern, and that horrible feeling of being forced to do things he didn't want to. Feeling trapped. Feeling alone. But it was more than that. It was like the incident in his mind wasn't the true problem. Yes, Hornbern was becoming a bother, more than a bother, but Sans wasn't nearly as afraid of the man as his weird little fit had made him believe. It was more like Hornbern's threatening face was a mere mask, and that the true source of Sans' terror lay behind it. Lurking. Waiting. Reaching out with piercing hate to grab his soul and wring the life from him.

Sans shivered, and Papyrus held him a little tighter. He didn't want to think about that anymore. His thoughts and emotions were worn thin and frail, like they usually were after he freaked out. He barely had the strength to hold on to Papyrus at all, exhausted. But, thankfully, Papyrus was fully capable and willing to hold on to him. To anchor him. Ground him. Oh stars, what would he ever do without his brother's soothing, loving presence? He stilled over that thought, knowing the answer full well. Sans knew what that was like. And he never wanted to know it again.

"Here is the room," Toriel spoke up gently, moving to open the door they had come to so that Papyrus wouldn't have to loosen his hold on his still trembling brother. Papyrus gave her a grateful smile, before he turned into the dark, shaded room, switching on a light on the wall with his elbow as they entered.

It smelled like carpet cleaner and flowers, making Sans's already roiling soul tighten in further nausea. Sans turned his head, trying to bury his nose hole deep into Papyrus's shirt to escape the overpowering scent. Papyrus smelled better, more familiar, and calming. Like so many times throughout all of the resets, he was the constant that kept Sans sane. The smaller skeleton felt Papyrus pause inside the room before the younger brother turned to face what Sans could only assume was Toriel and Asgore's direction. Sans buried himself as deep into his brother's arms as he could to keep as much of himself hidden. He didn't want to be coddled and soothed right now. Not by anyone other than Papyrus, because Papyrus was going to do so with or without his consent.

"I THINK WE WILL BE ALRIGHT," Papyrus addressed the king and queen softly, giving them a grateful look as they both hovered in the room's doorway. He felt Sans trying to hide in his shirt and hugged the smaller skeleton even more firmly than before, trying to reassure him. "YOU CAN GO BACK DOWN TO THE PARTY...IF YOU WANT..." It wasn't really a suggestion, it was a request.

"Should I bring up anything for the two of you," Toriel asked gently, her gaze fixed on the trembling bundle in Papyrus's arms that was Sans. The tall skeleton realized she was more speaking of Sans than himself, and so he gave a small nod.

"MAYBE SOME WATER?...AND A CLOTH?"

Toriel nodded and left, her heavy steps on soft carpet soothing its way out of hearing and sight. Asgore gave Papyrus a tilt of his head that somehow conveyed that he too would offer assistance if it was needed, before the king turned and followed Toriel out. Papyrus waited until their deep, heavy footsteps receded completely before he gave a careful sigh. He glanced down as best he could at his brother in his arms, noting the way Sans was still clinging to him weakly and shivering.

"...SANS?" No answer. But he expected that. "SANS, I'M GOING TO SET YOU DOWN ON THE BED, ALRIGHT?"

A small, subtle nod against his shoulder was all he needed before Papyrus moved over to the bright, ornate mattress, carefully extricating himself from Sans' hold. It wasn't hard, even though it was obvious Sans didn't want to let go. His grip was just so weak there really wasn't much trouble in pulling the small, skeletal hands from his shirt. Careful, tenderly, Papyrus lowered Sans until the other was lying sprawled out on his back, blinking up at the ceiling as his chest rose and fell unevenly. The shaking was so bad that, with nothing wrapped firmly around them, the bones rattled softly. Sans kept trying to pull his legs up to his chest, curl up as small as possible, but Papyrus wouldn't let him, laying a gentle hand on his brother's legs and holding them down as he sat on the edge of the bed beside him. With the other hand Papyrus gently smoothed his palm over Sans' brow, the touches careful and encouraging. It served two purposes; to ensure that Sans didn't have a fever, and to try and calm the other down as much as possible.

"SHHH. IT'S ALRIGHT, SANS. JUST RELAX. IT'S OVER. I PROMISE. JUST BREATHE AND STAY STILL FOR A MOMENT."

But it  _wasn't_  over, and that was the problem. Papyrus didn't understand. He was more than likely attributing this whole mess to his brother's usual string of issues. But this hadn't been about resets this time. Sans wasn't quite sure what it  _had_ been about. But it had scared him. A lot.

Sans wanted to let out all the pent up frustration and fear in a sob that would surely get caught in his throat if he so much as tried. His friends had taken him here to make him  _better_ , to try and ease the stress he was under, even if they didn't have any idea what was truly going on. And he had destroyed all their efforts simply because he couldn't control his own, stupid mind. His own stupid fears and anxiety. It wasn't fair, that all he wanted was to regain even a semblance of normal life, but he couldn't even accomplish that. Hornbern was waiting for him when he got back. The man's prying hands and questioning face, even if he meant well, had become a sense of distress for Sans. He didn't  _want_  to go. He was  _afraid_  to go...But he was also afraid of  _not_  going. He was terrified what his own body might do if he wasn't careful and Hornbern couldn't find a way to fix him.

To  _fix_  him.

Sans released a shuddering sigh as Papyrus continued to run his palm against the smaller's skull. It was rather soothing, and helped ground him a bit more. Enough to finally stop staring into space like some soulless husk, and actually look up into his brother's worried face, blinking to clear the darkness around the edges of his vision. Papyrus smiled genuinely at the effort.

"THAT'S IT, SANS. IT'S OKAY. I'M HERE."

Yeah. Yeah he was. And Sans was so,  _so_  glad he was.

"I KNOW YOU ARE VERY UPSET AT THE MOMENT, BROTHER. BUT I WANT YOU TO REMEMBER THAT THIS ISN'T YOUR FAULT. WE'RE NOT MAD. WE ARE ONLY CONCERNED." Still no response, but at least Sans' eyes were on him now, staring up at him rather than just the ceiling in general. That was a good sign. At least, Papyrus thought it was.

The younger skeleton had done a lot of research regarding Sans' odd attacks, scouring the internet and libraries for even the slightest hint of how to help his brother. The humans had things sort of like it, called post-traumatic stress and such, but monsters weren't humans, so it wasn't quite the same. In fact, Alphys had once theorized that monsters might be even more affected by traumatic events than humans, due to their souls being made up of certain 'purities', as Alphys called them. Human souls were made up of many traits, with the ability to use those traits for good or bad. And, as far as Alphys and Sans had figured out, a little bit of bad resided in every human soul, or at least the potential for it. But a monster was made up purely of love, compassion, and hope. When a human soul was stained by trauma, it was tough, and unpleasant, and sometimes downright disabling, but that stain would eventually fade away to mix in with the other aspects of the humans soul, and they would slowly heal to some degree. With monsters, however, it was like a terrible, dark stain on a clean piece of white cloth. It would stand out, unable to be buried, and unable to be healed. That was why there were so few survivors from the War of Humans and Monsters. Many had fallen down, unable to handle what they had seen or been through.

Sans, however, was a different case. He hadn't been able to fall down, not with the resets continuously dragging him back to life. Because his memories were never truly wiped of the traumas he saw, his 'white cloth' of a soul was now, metaphorically, a patchwork of stains. Alphys had assured Papyrus that Sans wouldn't be falling down, since he had somehow been able to assimilate past that danger over the resets. He was 'numb', in a sense, to the traumas themselves, except when he had a fit. Then he would just be overwhelmed, and it was his friends and brother's job to try and pull him back. They always managed to do so, and Sans was always fine afterward, but Papyrus could never quite banish the fear that, someday, Sans would slip away from them forever. And that no manner of desperation on their side would make any difference.

Sans wasn't shaking so hard now, the dreadful rattling reduced to a gentle tremble. Taking his thin, bony index finger, Papyrus held it just above his brother's hazy eye lights, just as Alphys had taught him. After these attacks it was always necessary not only to check over Sans' visibly physical state, but also his mental and cognitive state. As well as his ability to perform certain, normal, everyday tasks without his magic guttering out. And since the only place Sans' magic was steadily visible was in his sockets, Alphys had designed and modified certain tests to ensure Sans' health.

"WATCH MY FINGER, BROTHER." Papyrus moved his finger slowly from left to right, watching as Sans groggily followed the movement with his gaze. He still seemed a bit dizzy, but the magic of his eye lights stayed steady, so Papyrus felt satisfied. "THAT'S IT. GOOD JOB, SANS. THAT'S VERY GOOD. NOW, TOUCH MY FINGER?"

Sans did, though it was more of a fumble. His coordination was off. But that was to be expected.

"VERY GOOD."

Not as good as it could be, not that Papyrus would ever say so out loud, but good enough. Sans needed encouragement, and while his brother's awareness was not at its best, it was still not as bad as it could have been. Sans was starting to respond, however slowly.

"WELL, YOU SEEM TO BE ALRIGHT...MORE OR LESS..." He could easily see that Sans recognized him and was conscious of his surroundings, however unsteadily. Sans was still with them, and Papyrus had to fight down the urge to cry with relief. "BUT...SANS, THIS CAN'T KEEP HAPPENING. IT HURTS US TO SEE YOU...LIKE THIS. AND THIS IS SO MUCH...WORSE THAN OTHER TIMES."

"...S-sorry..."

The weak, trembling apology caught Papyrus by surprise. His face softened into something like pained remorse. "BROTHER-"

"N-No. I...m-mean it, Papyrus..." It was hard to pull the sentences together, but as he forced through the fogginess in his brain, Sans' words came easier and easier. "M'sorry, b-bro...I-I've been trying and trying but i-it's all been s-so hard and I...th-this...h-he-"

Papyrus thought this was all about the resets, and even though Sans knew very much that it was more than that at this point, he was far too confused himself to tell the complete truth. It was easier to settle back and blame something that Papyrus and the others already knew. That they already assumed was the problem. Hornbern still had to remain a secret, no matter what he decided to do now, and blaming his fit on the resets made that choice a little bit easier. A twinge of guilt crawled up his spine, a result of lying to his brother...again.

"STOP."

"B-But I-"

"NO."

"Papyru-"

"SANS, THAT IS  _ENOUGH_."

Sans fell silent, eyes closing shut to further block out the sympathetic face of his brother leaning over him. This was hard enough as it was without having to see the looks of sadness and worry on his friends and family's faces. A sadness and worry that  _he_  had put there. No one but him. Sometimes he wondered if they'd all just have a better ending without him dragging them down on what felt like a daily basis. It felt like he had these stupid attacks  _so often_. Just when he thought he was beginning to be alright he'd have a bad day, and all the emotional progress he thought he had made would just disappear, sift away like sand through his bony fingers.

Papyrus watched as Sans tried to turn away from him, push him away like his brother had done so many times before. The tall skeleton leaned back a bit, giving Sans a little space. He blinked once or twice, fixing his gaze down on his hands as he folded them in his lap. He knew he would have to be careful with his words. Pushing Sans often resulted in the smaller skeleton isolating himself all the more, while not pushing at all often led to the problem never being resolved.

"BROTHER. I WANT YOU TO LISTEN TO ME. ALRIGHT? AND...AND I MEAN  _REALLY_  LISTEN. OKAY? I KNOW YOU'VE BEEN TRYING. AND, NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES YOU FEEL LIKE YOU AREN'T GETTING ANY BETTER...I'M GOING TO BELIEVE YOU WILL. ALL OF US BELIEVE IT. YOU DON'T SEE THE PROGRESS YOU HAVE MADE, BECAUSE YOU CAN ONLY SEE ALL THE TIMES YOU THINK YOU'VE FAILED, BROTHER." Papyrus felt his non-existent throat tighten as his voice grew a little shakier. "BUT WE...W-WE SEE ALL THE TIMES YOU'VE STEPPED FORWARD."

"But I haven't, Pap."

"YOU  _HAVE_. JUST THINK! REMEMBER? YOU TOLD US ABOUT THE RESETS, AND YOU TOLD US ABOUT  _CHARA_. YOU TOLD US  _EVERYTHING_. YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO, BUT YOU DID. THAT WAS A VERY LARGE STEP, TO REACH OUT FOR HELP. AND YOU  _FORGAVE_  FRISK, AND LOVE HER LIKE WE DO, EVEN AFTER ALL THAT HAPPENED...THAT'S ANOTHER BIG STEP, BROTHER." The tall skeleton's voice grew a little sterner. "I DON'T KNOW WHY THIS ATTACK WAS SO BAD. AND YOU DON'T HAVE TO TELL ME RIGHT NOW...BUT IF SOMETHING IS...IS HURTING YOU, SANS...I WANT YOU TO LET US HELP YOU. A-ALRIGHT?"

Sans gazed up into his brother's kind, loving eyes, soaking in the words that, even though Papyrus had no idea about what he had been going through just in the last week, hit so close to home it was almost painful. It  _was_  painful. So painful, in fact, that all Sans managed as he lurched up into Papyrus' arms in a tight embrace was a small, strained sob. Followed by soft, desperate, but somehow grateful whispers of half finished sentences and murmurs of distress. Papyrus fully accepted it, without question or repulse, even though the words probably didn't even make sense. He just held him, and Sans couldn't think of anything he needed more.

They weren't sure how long they stayed like that before there was a light tap against the open door of the room and they looked up to see Toriel back in the doorway. She wasn't entering, waiting for permission as though the room were sacred ground. With a nod, Papyrus motioned her in, and Toriel carefully made her way over to the bed with a bowl of water balanced in one hand and a facecloth draped over her arm. As she neared she saw that Sans was looking dazedly up at her, and she smiled.

"Hello, Sans. How are you feeling?"

Sans' answer was a small shrug, his gaze shifting to stare sternly at the sheets of the bed.

Toriel sent a worried side glance to Papyrus. The taller skeleton returned her unspoken question with a saddened sigh, resuming the motion of gently soothing the back of Sans' skull. Toriel gave an almost imperceivable nod, understanding Sans' shy, almost embarrassed behavior.

Papyrus gave Sans a final embrace before leaning back, holding out a hand to take Toriel's offered bowl and cloth. He settled Sans in front of him, the smaller skeleton sitting with head bowed and legs crossed tightly between them. "TORIEL IS HERE TO HELP US, SANS. SHE DOESN'T BLAME YOU FOR WHAT HAPPENED ANY MORE THAN I DO. BUT YOU WERE HURT, AND THAT WORRIES US. SO...LET'S SEE YOUR ARMS, BROTHER."

Sans felt gentle hands start to ease up the sleeves of his spare jacket, when a horrible thought crashed into existence in his thoughts.

_They would see what Hornbern had done to his arm._

What  _he_  had  _let_  Hornbern do to his arm.

That was enough to make him try and squirm away, letting out a series of soft, half formed protests, but Toriel was beside him now too, helping Papyrus handle him. He was still too worn out and shaky to truly push them away, and so he fell back against the bed, panting slightly and bracing himself for the questions he was certain would come.

...But they didn't.

The feeling of cool water against his aching wrists made his body slack in surprise, sockets opening as he leaned up a bit to watch Papyrus gently wash over the scratches with the cloth. Toriel was holding his arm by the hand and elbow, ensuring he couldn't pull away, but also making sure he didn't feel bound or restrained. The cuts were clearly visible, scar-like since Toriel had already done much of the healing already. Dust covered them slightly, trickling and flaking off of the small wounds, which was easily wiped away by the fabric in Papyrus' hand. Sans blinked down at the injuries, realizing with a sense of overwhelming relief that, after being healed with magic, the new cuts looked almost exactly like the ones he had gotten from Hornbern. He could barely tell the difference. And if he couldn't, then Papyrus and Toriel certainly couldn't. He vaguely wondered why they hadn't noticed the old cuts earlier, when they had first made it to his side, but then pushed it aside, attributing it to their panic in helping the injuries they had seen most clearly.

With a choked little laugh, Sans flopped back down onto the bed, letting the two clear away the dust from his wrists. The silence didn't seem so menacing now. More calming, as the two worked in complete quiet and Sans attempted to get a hold of his thoughts and emotions. He carefully replayed the whole incident in his mind, finding that, in retrospect, it hadn't been much of a trigger. He had felt anxious, had gone in seek of a bit of space, and had instead walked in on probably the last person he'd want ever seeing him at his worst. Everything after that was a bit of a blur, but he remembered just enough to know he had used his magic. And that scared him enough to finally speak up, breaking the odd calm in the guest room.

"I...uh. I didn't hurt anyone...did I?"

Toriel's answer was soft. "Only if you count the damage caused to Mettaton's dressing room wall." She noticed Sans wince and quickly added, "No. No, Sans, no one was hurt." She sadly glanced down at his wrists. "...Except for youself, dear."

"YOU GAVE METTATON QUITE A SCARE," Papyrus interjected. "YOU GAVE  _ME_  QUITE A SCARE."

"...Sorry..."

"There is nothing to be sorry for," Toriel scolded sternly. "You cannot help when these things happen." She slid her thumb back and forth against his hand gently, trying to reach out and take away the guilt she knew he was feeling. "But I do wish you had told me you were feeling...off, before you left the party like you did. Maybe we could have helped."

Sans highly doubted that. He gave another half-hearted shrug, taking back his arms as Papyrus finished washing them down.

"Have you any other injuries?" Toriel's voice was almost accusatory, like she thought there might be other hurts he wasn't telling her about.

"...No."

"Are you certain? Because we can look for you if you-"

"Tori." She looked at him, eyes filled with genuine concern. Almost so much that it hurt for him to look at her. "I'm fine. Tired, and a little disoriented, but fine." He shuffled around a bit on the mattress, trying to put at least a little distance between him and their worried hands. He gave a weak smile. "So, heh. I banged up Mettaton's wall, huh?"

"YOU PUT A BONE RIGHT THROUGH IT," Papyrus deadpanned.

"But...Mettaton's alright?" the smaller brother pressed.

"HE IS UNHARMED."

"But very worried for you," Toriel added.

Sans blinked in surprise. "He...is?"

"Yes. Very much so. He is downstairs, waiting for me to give him a report on your condition. Alphys, Undyne, and Asgore are also waiting to hear how you are fairing."

"Oh." Sans blushed slightly. "Well, you can tell them I'm doing okay. Just a little  _rattled_." He winced at the redundantly overused pun. "But, seriously, guys...I'm good." He started to shift his weight toward the side of the bed, as though to get up. "In fact, I might even rejoin the festivities." Toriel's large, firm hand on his shoulder stopped him short.

"No you will not. You need rest. Your HP is still weak, and I  _know_  you're not up to going back downstairs, Sans. Don't try to act like everything is alright for our sake."

He sighed. "But it's our last night...And you guys wanted me to enjoy coming here..." He felt like a jerk.

Toriel seemed to understand. "That matters little. Did you enjoy your time here before the...attack?"

"...Yes."

"Then I would say our efforts were a success." Her gaze softened further. "One troublesome event does not undo every good thing that comes before it." She gave his shoulder a light squeeze. "Or after it." She gently moved away, getting up off the bed with a slight creak of springs. "I am going to return downstairs. You two may stay up here as long as you wish. I know I would feel better if you got a bit of sleep, Sans, before you even consider rejoining us."

Sans nodded a little numbly, allowing Papyrus to voice their decision on his behalf.

"I THINK THAT IS A VERY GOOD IDEA."

"I will return in a little while with something for you both to eat," she informed, taking back the bowl and cloth, both covered in thin specks of dust. To Papyrus she added, "If you need anything else, just call for any of us." And with that, she left the room once more.

Sans released a breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding, slumping forward a bit.

"...TIRED?"

"...A little."

"THEN I REALLY DO THINK THAT LADY TORIEL IS CORRECT. YOU SHOULD SLEEP."

Sans gave his brother a small, slightly cheeky grin. "Are you actually encouraging me to be lazy, bro?"

Papyrus rolled his eyes. "ONLY BECAUSE YOU SEEM TO NEED IT. DO NOT EXPECT ME TO ALWAYS BE SO LENIENT!" A pause, in which the humor died back down to worried seriousness. "I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU ALWAYS FEEL YOU HAVE TO APOLOGIZE FOR THESE THINGS," Papyrus started, looking down at the mattress between them.

Oh. So they were continuing this conversation then. Okay. Sans felt too tired to resist.

"YOU'VE SAID YOURSELF BEFORE THAT YOU CAN'T HELP IT, SO THAT MEANS YOU'RE NOT AT FAULT. IT ISN'T YOUR FAULT YOU REMEMBERED RESETS, OR THAT PEOPLE DIED, OR THAT YOU DIED OVER AND OVER-"

He choked on the last word, feeling tears threaten to settle in his sockets. He swallowed, regaining his composure, finally glancing down. Sans was staring up at him with an expression of pain, grief, and regret, and Papyrus instantly blamed himself for putting it there, charging ahead in his attempt to wipe the look from his brother's face.

"THAT WAS SOMEONE ELSE, NOT YOU. MOST WOULDN'T HAVE MADE IT THROUGH THE WAY YOU DID." He reached out to test his brother one more time for a fever, surprised when his brother actually leaned into the touch a little, accepting the comfort. "I AM SO...SO PROUD OF YOU, SANS. I KNOW IT'S HARD SOMETIMES, BUT IT'S OVER. FRISK WON'T RESET AGAIN. YOU CAN HEAL." It was like he was giving him permission. Papyrus gently pulled Sans into a loving hug, one that Sans almost desperately returned. "AND I'M GOING TO HELP YOU. WE ALL ARE. BUT YOU HAVE TO LET US...OKAY?"

"...Okay." Sans was such a liar.

Pulling back a little, so that he could properly see Sans' face, Papyrus raised a brow. "THEN LET ME SEE YOUR ARMS AGAIN, TO START." Sans wordlessly offered the limbs to his brother. The younger inspected them carefully, and Sans tensed again under the scrutiny. But he remained still. "I WANT YOU TO TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED."

"...Bro, I don't really...remember much."

"BUT YOU MUST HAVE SOME IDEA."

Sans sighed, looking down at his own wrists. "I was feeling a little anxious, so I came up here to try and get a little space."

"WHY DIDN'T YOU COME GET ME?"

"Because...I wasn't expecting it to be...so bad."

This time Papyrus sighed. "I SEE. STILL ISN'T YOUR FAULT," he added defensively.

_Still isn't your fault._  Papyrus never ever blamed anyone. Heck, even when he had been faced with Chara, the kid literally staring down the length of their dust covered blade at him, Papyrus had believed there was still some good in the demon. Right until the very end. Sans sometimes wondered how much effort it took on Papyrus's part to do that. And then wondered how much effort it took for him to keep believing in someone like  _him_. Someone who kept messing up and couldn't seem to let the past go. And now his future wasn't looking too great either, and Sans didn't have the heart to tell Papyrus that it wasn't the resets that were bothering him this time, but the prospects of simply returning home.

Dang, was he pathetic.

He was so ready to give up. So ready to just let the pain and fear and hurt carry him away. But he couldn't do that. Not when Papyrus still believed in him. And he  _wanted_  to be helped. He had offered that up ever since he'd told them all about the resets. But it was always easier said than done. How long had he only been able to rely on himself? Too long. Long enough to be a habit. Long enough to have become instinctual. But he was trying. Trying  _really_  hard. And he had been making progress for a while there. Before Hornbern. Sans shuddered at the realization. Before Hornbern, he had been actually moving forward considerably well. Now, he was backsliding, and he didn't know how to cry for help. He couldn't. He was trapped.  _Trapped_.

"...SANS?"

He realized he had started breathing heavier again, slipping back into his panic, but Papyrus's voice did its job and broke the spell. After a few deep breaths to calm himself, he gave a small nod. "Y...Yeah, bro?" Papyrus was still mopping the cloth against his arm, but not in a way that was doing any more good. The dust was all gone. Papyrus was more focused on him now.

"HAS THIS EVER HAPPENED BEFORE? THE...SCRATCHING?" the taller asked, uneasy. He hated the feel of his brother's marred bone beneath his fingers. He hoped that the light scarring would disappear in a few days. Sans was already scarred enough emotionally. He didn't need physical reminders.

"No. I...I don't think so." Because he'd remember something like that, right?

"WELL. THANK GOODNESS FOR THAT, AT LEAST." He gave a sad frown. "DO THEY STILL HURT?"

Sans gave a small sigh, hunching his shoulders forward a bit, making himself seem all the smaller. "...Yeah...A little."

Papyrus' expression was pure sympathy. Putting the cloth and bowl of water aside, he moved to take his brother's wrists directly in his hands, letting a small trickle of healing green magic run through him and into the damaged limbs. Papyrus wasn't very good at it, and never had been, which was why he had refrained from attempting to heal the cuts before. But since Toriel had already taken care of the injuries, all they needed was a little soothing. And Papyrus could certainly do that.

Sans shuddered, but then relaxed, starting to look less and less tense and more limp and sleepy. Healing magic, Papyrus had found, had that effect on Sans. The warmth that bloomed between them was soothing and positive. By the time the taller skeleton had healed as much of the pain away as he could, his bother was looking up at him with half-closed eyes and a lopsided smile. Healing magic also had that effect on Sans. It made him a little loopy. Too much power being pumped into a small body was what did it, Papyrus was certain, but Alphys had assured him long ago that it was fine. Sans could do with some extra energy every once in a while. Thankfully, the effects only ever lasted for several minutes at a time.

Papyrus met his brother's smile with a fond one of his own. "BETTER?"

Sans gave a little titter, eyes threatening to close. He nodded in response.

"DO YOU THINK YOU COULD SLEEP A LITTLE, BROTHER?"

Another nod, weaker this time. Sans was falling asleep sitting up.

Assisting Sans in lying back against the mattress, Papyrus shifted, lying on his back so that he and Sans were side by side, both staring up at the ceiling.

"Ya good?" Sans chuckled, relaxing as the green magic worked its way further into his system.

"YES. I WILL WAKE YOU LATER, TO EAT SOMETHING. YOU MUST GET YOUR HP BACK UP TO ITS FULL STRENGTH."

"Mm hmm," was all Sans could manage. He could feel himself drifting off. Beside him, Papyrus kept watch over him, gaze occasionally flitting down to rest on Sans' clean but marred wrists.

They stayed like that in relative silence, until Sans' periodical chuckles faded into steady breathing. Once certain that his brother was sleeping peacefully, Papyrus allowed himself to drop off as well.

They would face their problems tomorrow.

For now, they would just be there.

Together.

Safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright! There's the first chapter! Thanks for reading!


End file.
